Chapter Twenty: Yet they shall not break

Note: AU. Not DH-compliant.

Chapter Twenty: Yet they shall not break

Mid-February – 17 March 1997

Minerva sat up in bed and reached for her wand, turning on her bedside lamp.

"Are you all right, Albus?"

"Can't sleep. I lay flat and I can't breathe; I sit up and I can't get comfortable," he admitted.

"Did you take enough potion before you went to bed?"

"I took the prescribed dose."

"I'm giving you more," Minerva said, getting up and going over to the dresser, where a startling array of potions bottles were lined up, each one labelled only with a number. "It's 'six,' the pale purple one, isn't it?"

"Yes, but I don't know as I should take more..." Albus began.

"You have to sleep, and I can't bear to have you so uncomfortable and unable to breathe." Minerva picked up a parchment with directions written in Melina's precise handwriting. "You increased number two yesterday." She glanced at the second bottle, which contained a glaring red potion, then turned to the second page of parchment and cast a decrypting charm on it. "That's the one that increases the congestion." She flipped back to the other parchment. "But your dosage of number six was not correspondingly increased."

"That was intentional, my dear. There is some concern on all our parts that it will lose its efficacy if we increase the dosage too rapidly."

He tried to take a deep breath and began to cough. His coughing did not abate, but became more violent, and Minerva rushed to his side as he tried to get out of bed. He waved her off as he stumbled toward the loo, where his violent coughing became retching. Minerva followed him in to find him sitting on the cool floor, his eyes closed, his head resting on his left arm as he leaned against the toilet. His breath was shallow and rattled in his chest.

Minerva knelt beside him and rubbed his back. "This is no good, Albus. I know this was my plan, and we are supposed to be following it to the letter, but I cannot bear to see you suffer like this now. We have to make some changes."

Albus raised his head and smiled weakly. "You could always just kill me sooner."

"Do not joke, Albus! There can be no questions about your death. I will do what I have to when I have to, but I don't think I can bear this."

"We must simply find new methods of coping. And I will speak with Melina tomorrow. You may be the architect of the plan, and Robert and Murdoch, the primary designers of all those lovely potions, but Melina is the expert on the curse and on the effects of these potions on my body. And aside from the issue of the second spell that you two are still debating, and which I am leaving up to your judgment, we will do as she says, Minerva. I promised her that. If it means some discomfort for me, I will bear it, and you must try to bear it, as well, my dear. It is the only way that we can succeed. And I was joking about killing me sooner. That might bring relief, but as you say, there must be no questions about my death, and the timing must be carefully adhered to."

Tears rose in Minerva's eyes. "I wish there were another way, Albus. A way to save you, and keep you from this suffering, but also save Severus, Draco, and Harry."

"My poor, sweet darling," Albus said, caressing her cheek briefly. "You need your sleep, too. I think it might be best if you slept alone. I should begin staying in my own room."

"No. If necessary, I will move up there with you, make some arrangement to avoid having my absence from my rooms noticed. I can Floo here as easily as you can Floo back to your rooms, and if visitors have to wait for me a bit longer than usual, that is the way it must be. At this point in the year, I rarely have anyone seeking me after curfew, anyway."

Albus shook his head as she helped him stand. "You still need your rest. You will not be able to carry on if you become exhausted. You know that."

"I don't want you alone at night when you are unwell."

"I can have Wilspy stay with me, as she used to when I was a child," Albus replied, turning to the sink to wash his face and hand.

"She is already in sufficient distress. I trust her completely, but there is only so much that we can tell her, and she is too observant not to eventually see what we are doing. I do not know how she would react, particularly not knowing why we're doing it. I think it might soon be time to send her to the island with Gertrude and Gareth." She took his arm and steadied him as they returned to the bedroom.

Albus hesitated. "No, no, not until the end. Whatever we finally tell her, I cannot do that to her. It would break her heart. She would pine and die"

Minerva sighed. "I thought you would say that, and I actually agree. But I will still stay with you."

"At least conjure another bed so that you are not overly disturbed by my moving about in the night," he said as he sat down on the edge of the bed and Minerva cast a spell to freshen the sheets for him.

"At some point, for your comfort, I may do that, but for now, I prefer to be awakened when you are uncomfortable." Minerva plumped his pillows and helped him lie back against them. "I will be back in a minute. Some hot tea with a lot of peppermint might help, if you refuse the potion. But do speak with Melina, please. Even if you can't take more of number six...or was it two?...even if you can't take more of that, perhaps there's a standard potion you could take that wouldn't interfere with the others during the day."

"I promise I will talk to her," Albus said.

When she returned a few minutes later with the steaming tea, Albus was leaning against the pillows, dozing, but his eyes fluttered open. He smiled.

"Thank you, my dear."

"No honey or sugar, I'm afraid," Minerva said.

"I know. Melina's instructions," he said with a nod. He breathed in the steam. "Lovely. Thank you."

When they had each had a cup of tea, Minerva had him lean over, holding some pillows in front of him, and she rapidly tapped the blades of her cupped hands over his back. Albus began to cough again, but less violently, and this time, the coughing clearing his chest and not merely choking him. When she was finished, she had him lie back against the pile of pillows again and poured him another cup of hot tea.

"How do you feel?"

"Better." He took a sip of his tea and sighed. "Where did you learn to do that?" he asked, looking at her quizzically. Forty years together, and she could still surprise him.

"Well, you know that I was never particularly interested in Healing," Minerva replied, "but that Mother still used to drag me about with her when I was young. I remember seeing her teach someone to do that. It's Muggle, I think, but Mother did it because the patient was unable to take certain potions for some reason that I don't remember, if I ever knew it. It fascinated me to watch her thunking the witch's back like that, so different from everything else she did. There was a spell that she used before and after, too. Melina probably knows it. I think it helps loosen everything up, though I'm not entirely sure. I will have to ask her about it, if we have to be cautious about the potions. A spell should be all right, though, and after what I've been doing recently, it should be a simple thing for me to learn. Did it help?"

"I do feel better. I think I could recline more and sleep now."

Minerva helped him fix his pillows, then she lay down herself and reached over to turn off the light.

"Comfortable?" she asked.

"Yes, but I would be more comfortable if you were a little closer."

Minerva moved closer, rolling over and resting her hand on his hip.

"A little closer. A nice warm snuggle," Albus said.

"It won't bother you?"

"No, I feel quite well, aside from the breathing. And a few aches, which your warmth could only soothe."

Minerva rested her head on the pillows he was reclining against and put her arm around his waist. She could hear his breath rattling in his chest, but it wasn't as bad as it had been. Putting her ear to his side, she could hear his heartbeat, still strong and steady, and feel his magic thrumming in time with it, also still strong. Albus put his arm around her and gave her a squeeze. Minerva concentrated on bringing her own magic in tune with his, an easy thing now, after all their years together, and even easier since the Celebrare had been cast. She sighed and drifted to sleep, dreaming of his magic streaming like music from his heart.

---

Minerva looked up as Melina entered the sitting room from the Headmaster's bedroom.

"How is he?"

"He is as I expected he would be at this point," Melina said. "His fever was higher this morning than I thought it would be, though. I want you to check his temperature every morning before he takes his first potions of the day. I will come by earlier tomorrow morning so that I can check him as soon as he wakes up. Shall I meet you in your rooms tomorrow?" When Minerva nodded, she continued, "You should begin recording his temperature, pulse, and respiration each morning before and after he takes his potions."

"But what about his sleeping? He can't breathe at night."

"That will get somewhat worse, but you can do as you did last night," Melina said, "and there's a Muggle medicine I can get for you. It's not particularly powerful, even as a Muggle medicine, but it should be soothing for him. You can rub it into his chest and back before bed. I used to use it on Rosemary and Calum when they were small because it's mild."

Minerva sighed. "I knew he was going to get sicker, but knowing it in the abstract and having to watch it happening are very different things."

"This is not the worst of it, Aunt Minerva. You must try not to allow it to affect you...I know that it will, but you need to remain healthy yourself. You will be helping him most by doing that. Not to mention that the rest of your plan will require you to be at your best. You cannot afford to become sick or to appear in any way to be less than one hundred percent in control of yourself."

"I know," Minerva said with a nod, rubbing her forehead.

The door to the bedroom opened and Albus emerged, cheerily dressed in deep blue silk robes decorated with a scattered vertical pattern of large white lilies and long green leaves. They weren't Minerva's favourites, but Albus liked them. He was pale, but his eyes were bright, and he crossed the room and leaned over to kiss Minerva's cheek as he sat beside her on the sofa.

"You should go down to breakfast, my dear," he said. "I plan to be at lunch and dinner today, and I am spending the morning with Robert until he has to leave to take your first-year classes, then I have a few meetings during the afternoon. After dinner, I am seeing Harry, and then I'm meeting with Severus after that."

Minerva wanted to protest that he should rest after sleeping so poorly, but she knew that he still had work to do, and it was also important that he attend as many meals as he felt he could until he became too ill to go down to the Great Hall. It wouldn't do for Voldemort to have an inkling of precisely how ill Albus was until after he died. It was a careful balancing act. It was all a balancing act, every single thing they did, everything balanced and working together.

Rather than protest, Minerva gave Albus a kiss, said she would see him at lunch, and walked Melina down to the great front doors.

"How is Poppy?" Melina asked as they rode the stairs down to the gargoyle.

"She is still upset that we won't let her help take care of Albus," Minerva said, "but Albus had her to tea a few days ago and reassured her that he had put himself into your hands and would be fine. She will not be pleased to see him deteriorate."

Melina shook her head. "If there were a way to get her out of Hogwarts, I would recommend that," she said, "but I suppose that's not practical."

"Even if I didn't care about Poppy's feelings or the task of finding a new matron for the school, for her to suddenly disappear from the school would be very suspicious to anyone watching Hogwarts, no matter the excuse we gave."

"Have you reconsidered telling her?"

"No, the more people who know, particularly among those who are around us, the greater the chance that something will go wrong," she said. "The only people who can know are those who have a specific role to play, and each of them, only as much as they must know." She looked at Melina and smiled. "There are even a few things that we haven't told you and have shared only with Gareth and Gertrude. Nothing that you need to know, however."

"There will be a lot of people who will be very upset when this is all over," Melina said.

The door at the base of the stairs opened. "It will be over, though," Minerva said. "Fancy staying for breakfast?"

"No, Brennan is expecting me back. I am trying to spend more time at home now, in anticipation of my extended absence in a few weeks. I have dropped everything but a few emergency cases."

"I am sorry, Melina. Please tell him how much we appreciate it," Minerva said, thinking of Melina's elderly Muggle husband and feeling slightly guilty. At eighty years old, the sacrifice of time with his wife could not be an easy thing for him...or for Melina. "How is his health?"

"He's doing very well. Still bicycling every day, and he works with Rosemary in her greenhouse a few days a week. Don't worry, Aunt Minerva, I don't think he is in danger of dying while I'm away. Not that he couldn't, of course, but he's very healthy and we both know that this is important, especially for people like us."

Minerva cautioned her to take care when Apparating home, then stood in the doorway, feeling the chill, damp February air, and watched Melina walk down to the gates. She was asking a great deal of so many people, some of whom could never even know precisely why they were making sacrifices. They simply took her word for it that it was for the good of the wizarding world. She hoped that she could live up to the trust that everyone placed in her, particularly Albus. Once she had revealed her entire plan to him and he'd considered it, Albus had put himself in her hands and began to help with the plan. Everything hinged on her and her ability to carry through successfully. Minerva pushed that thought from her mind. In the meantime, she had classes to teach.

---

Albus smiled as Severus took a seat across from him. "Thank you for taking the time to see me so late."

"I saw Potter in the hall. Was he leaving here?"

"Yes, and that is why I wanted to meet with you. I am going to share with you all that I am imparting to him, and more, more that you will need to know but that he cannot yet learn. He will need to discover certain things on his own, with help, yours and others'. I am going to prepare you."

"I doubt he will ever accept my help," Severus replied. "It has been a difficult task up to this point. He fights me every step, and he blunders off doing the most foolish things. That entire fiasco in the Ministry was his fault. His judgment is even worse than his father's, something I never believed possible. And, of course, he blames me for Black's death. If you do carry through on your plan, he will trust me even less."

"More, though, than he would have if we had proceeded with the original plan," Albus pointed out, ignoring the rest of Severus's statement.

"Albus, you need to start taking your potions again. You don't look well. When I said that I would not fulfill the requirements of the Vow, this is not what I intended. I wanted you whole and here..."

"Severus, it is better this way. Please, I do know what I am doing. You will have an opportunity for a locus poenitentiae of sorts. This is for the best, and not just for you, but for Draco, too. And Tom will not have a victory to use to his advantage. My early demise will slow his progress." Albus paused and cleared his throat, then took a sip from the water glass at his elbow. "I will rest easy knowing that I will leave you in the best possible position to help Harry and to complete what you set out to do all those years ago. Do not forget that, Severus. Do not forget in the frustration of the moment why it was that you came to me almost seventeen years ago, and why you have been here at Hogwarts for the last sixteen. You still have much to do."

"There must be another way," Severus protested, acutely aware that the Headmaster was having difficulty taking a full breath.

"Events are overtaking us, my boy," Albus replied patiently. "We must make the most of the time we have. We will need to meet frequently in the next days. There is much you need to understand...about Tom, about Harry, about certain deceptions I have created over the years. Minerva now knows all that I know about them, and there are a few select facts that I have shared with Arthur Weasley, but when I am gone, you can rely on Minerva if you have questions, or if there are things I have neglected to tell you...or even if you just need someone to talk to. You can trust her."

"Minerva is barely speaking to me," Severus said bitterly. "She is perfectly civil, but I cannot foresee that she will welcome that."

"She is agreed, Severus. She still cares about you, you know. She is just angry and over-worked right now. That is one reason that Robert has come to stay. He can take some of her burden from her, both in helping me and in taking a few of her classes. He will already be in place when she needs a replacement to teach Transfiguration. He is also an excellent Potions master."

"I had thought he was brewing your potions for you," Severus said, sounding glum despite himself.

"He is. He and Murdoch both. I will be quite comfortable for some time longer, my boy. Do not worry about that. My family is taking good care of me, and they will care for you, too, when I am gone."

"Minerva..."

"Minerva will recover, and she will eventually thaw toward you. She will certainly work with you. Now, I have a good deal to show you tonight," Albus said, gesturing toward his large Pensieve, "so let's begin."

---

Albus sighed with relief when the gargoyle sprang aside. He stepped up and leaned heavily on the railing spiralling up beside him. Lunch had been a gruelling ordeal. Merely crossing the Great Hall had exhausted him. By the time he had reached his chair, he felt he would never catch his breath again. His muscles ached from coughing during the night and each inhalation was painful, but beyond that, he felt as though he were trying to breath through a heavy, saturated sponge. Minerva had entered the Great Hall after he did. Her expression flickered when she saw him, but then she set her jaw and proceeded calmly to the staff table, taking her seat next to him.

"How are you, Professor?" she asked as she reached for her water.

"About as well as I look at the moment, unfortunately," he said softly.

She looked at him. "Would you like me to accompany you back to your office?"

"No, no, thank you. I need to rest first, and you need to eat."

Unfortunately, the meal included boiled cabbage, which Albus normally enjoyed, especially with a lot of butter, salt, and pepper, but now, the aroma made his stomach lurch. He pretended to eat some soup and bread, then left with Minerva, who walked up the stairs with him, taking them at his slowed pace, the students rushing past them on their way to their next classes or to their common rooms. She had been going to accompany him to his office, but Albus pointed out that if she did that, given his pace, she would be late for her next class. After he promised to call Wilspy if he felt faint or needed help, Minerva turned and hurried toward her classroom.

When he reached his office, Albus sank into an armchair beside the fireplace and closed his eyes. Unless he decided to allow himself to be carried into the Great Hall in a Charmed sedan chair, he didn't believe that he would be attending any more meals. Time to have people believe that he had developed an intractable bronchial ailment, he thought, complicated by his age and general physical condition. He could still meet with staff and students in his office. And when he no longer could go down to his office, he could meet with them in his suite. He and Minerva had begun sleeping in his rooms a few days before. Although he could Floo back and forth to his suite from her rooms in Gryffindor Tower, it was simply easier now not to do that. His world was becoming smaller, until eventually, it would consist only of his bed.

After he had sat there for several minutes, catching his breath as well as he was able, Albus became aware that he was thirsty. Peppermint tea would be nice. He opened his eyes, and the view from the window caught his eye. It was a beautiful day. The late February sky was a pure, clear blue. He could see the mountains on the other side of the lake. The conifers were darkly green against the hillside, but it would only be a matter of weeks before the other trees began to bud and the earth sent out new bright shoots of green. He swallowed against the lump in his throat as he thought of how Hogwarts would begin this spring with a funeral. It would be difficult for the school and the students, but easier, he thought, than his original plan. Having a Headmaster die of a mysterious illness would certainly be easier than having him murdered, particularly having him murdered by a member of his staff. And if the murder were to occur, as he believed, during an attack on Hogwarts itself, the results could be devastating, even if Severus did all he could to contain the damage. Minerva had averted that, as well, with her new plan.

Draco was still not confiding in his Head of House, and Albus had never told Severus what Draco's other task was. As long as Severus kept Draco safe, Albus believed that would be sufficient to hold the Vow at bay for now. Several times a week, Albus could sense the wards being pushed and pulled, so to speak, and he could sense Draco's frustration vibrating through them as he tried to bypass the castle wards and connect the Vanishing Cabinet to its mate. Now that Severus would not fulfil the terms of the Vow, Albus had shifted from merely interfering with Draco's efforts to compromise the wards, to completely stymying them. In a few weeks, that task would be moot, he hoped, and the Order could bring Draco and his mother into hiding. Minerva had spoken to Tonks, and although the young Auror knew nothing of their plan, she had agreed to be prepared to drop everything when Minerva called on her. Only at that point would Minerva explain their plan to rescue Narcissa and Draco. Arthur and a few other Order members had already prepared a sanctuary in Sweden, but without knowing who the refugees would be or precisely when they would arrive.

Albus sighed and pushed up on the armrest as he stood. Increasing responsibility was falling to Minerva. Although she had always been an active member of the Order, he had tried to protect her, and not only her physical well-being. That was no longer possible. She had to know all that he did and be prepared to act on it. Her physical safety was more important than ever, and not merely from a sentimental perspective. She had to remain safe to continue carrying out the plan, regardless of what happened to him, and she had to be named Headmistress. He had spoken with members of the Board of Governors in January, hinting at a retirement in the near future and strongly recommending Minerva to succeed him. Minerva had attended the last three meetings of the Governors, the first two by mere happenstance, and the most recent one, deliberately, in order to increase her visibility.

The Ministry was flailing about, taking steps that would not help and could even cause them damage in the fight against Voldemort. Scrimgeour was unwilling to admit any errors in arresting the innocent, saying that it would make the Ministry appear weak, and the last thing they wanted was to look weak. Albus had managed to keep them from hunting down and rounding up all werewolves and incarcerating them, regardless of their allegiance or any danger they might pose. It would not only have been an injustice for all werewolves who dutifully saw to it that they were confined during the full moon or who regularly took Wolfsbane Potion, but it would have been an extreme waste of resources that were already spread thin. There was no knowing what steps the Ministry would take when he was no longer there to try to check the worst of the abuses. Gertrude and Gareth's calculations indicated that there would be fewer repercussions on the Ministry's authority if he were to die soon of illness, but that they could be catastrophic if he were killed in an attack on Hogwarts. Looking at it now, saving Draco seemed an unequal trade for allowing Tom to have a greater hold on the wizarding world. Gertrude wasn't entirely certain of it, but she believed that if Albus were to die in an attack on the school, Hogwarts itself would be in danger of falling into Voldemort's hands...through proxies, no doubt, but it would still be a school run by Death Eaters.

The thought of Muggle-born and half-blood students having to attend a school run by Voldemort sent shivers through Albus. Looking ahead only to the final defeat of Voldemort, he had focussed on saving Draco, keeping Severus as a double agent, and enabling Harry to continue on his path. Now, though, faced with Gertrude and Gareth's projections, he could not ignore the other effects his death could have. By controlling the timing and the manner of his death, many of those effects might be averted. He had known that his influence was significant, but he had vastly underestimated the effect his murder would have on the wizarding world and on Hogwarts.

Perhaps Minerva was right, and he had been blinkered by his belief in the prophecy that Cassandra Vablatsky had uttered decades before, but with a sigh, Albus also acknowledged that a part of it was simply his sense of ultimate responsibility engendered by his gifts, combined with his confidence in his evaluation of the circumstances. He should have shared his knowledge of Tom and the Horcruxes with Minerva long before he did. Too many years of holding a tight rein on everything in the Order and his desire to protect those around him had led to bad habits. He knew quite well that he was not infallible, yet even knowing that, he trusted his own judgment over that of others...and usually, rightly so. He did take counsel in most decisions, weighing the recommendations of others, but for those issues most central to Harry's role in Tom's defeat...even the fact that Harry had a role determined by prophecy and by the curse cast by Tom all those years ago...those issues, he kept close. He had already begun to reveal much of it to Harry, though perhaps it would have been better if he had begun earlier, despite his desire to protect Harry's childhood...what childhood he could still enjoy.

Minerva had known that the Potters had been targeted based on information that Severus had provided Tom, but until only a few years before, Albus had not even shared the prophecy with her. He should have done that immediately after James and Lily had been killed. She might have understood better why he had left Harry with his Muggle relatives, though she had accepted the explanations he had provided at the time. When Minerva's concerns for young Harry grew after she had spent an afternoon at Arabella Figg's in her Animagus form and had seen the boy there, he had explained the blood protection that Harry had acquired through his mother's sacrifice, and Minerva had agreed that his safety was more important than whether his childhood was ideal.

It pained Albus to think of how little pleasure and love there had been in Harry's early years, but he had faith that Lily's sacrifice would also save him from the worst consequences of his deprivation, and that Harry would never become twisted and cruel. The boy was still filled with anger, but although he remained immature in some respects, he had made some close friends and had chosen them well. His manner of relating to adults, though, could certainly improve. Severus was not warm and cuddly, and Albus could understand why Harry disliked him, but his persistent distrust of the Potions master, even in the face of all that Harry had witnessed Severus do in the service of the Order and to protect him, that was something that Albus could not understand. Had Harry trusted Severus more, Sirius would likely still be alive. Of course, there were now some powerful Death Eaters who had been exposed and imprisoned as a result of the battle in the Ministry, and Voldemort's return had been publicly confirmed, but at a very high price.

Albus began up the stairs to his suite. Almost time for the yellow potion again, number three. Fever. Lovely way to begin an afternoon. The potions were predictable. Harry was less so. The projections that Gertrude and Gareth had done were never clear when it came to Harry. Gertrude said that there must be variables which they were unaware of, likely future variables, and the further out into the future they tried to project, the more indeterminate their projections became...which was to be expected, but there was a much greater effect than usual. If the Arithmancers performed very close, very narrow calculations based on a specific point in time and very well-defined variables, the picture was clearer, but those kinds of calculations were only accurate for the very near future. So many things could occur between his death and Harry's confrontation with Tom, it was impossible to create any accurate calculations, particularly considering what Gertrude had begun to call "the human wand effect." They could find no previous cases that were close enough parallels to Tom and Harry to be able to be completely sure of what would happen when they duelled. Tom would never again use his original wand against Harry, and the next confrontation would engage the two wizards themselves more than it did their wands. Albus found it heartening, however, that almost all of the projections they made ended with Harry alive and well and Tom either fully incapacitated or dead.

One thing was certain, his life had to end soon. The longer he remained in the picture, the darker the picture became. It pained Albus to think that his presence in the world could cause such darkness, but Gertrude explained that it wasn't his presence, per se, but when his absence occurred that was determinative. Clearly, if he wanted to save Severus and Draco, he couldn't remain in play. Time to become a pawn, he thought.

On Minerva's instruction, the two Arithmancers had performed projections of what might occur if he were to live, strong and whole, and Severus were to die from the unfulfilled Vow. In the very short-term, if he played a strong hand and held Hogwarts against Death Eaters, or if he simply prevented Draco from letting them have access at all, the picture was initially good, but the loss of Severus weakened the Order, and Voldemort's progress was stronger and faster than in any other scenario. Gertrude knew that it was Severus who was key, because when she removed the Unbreakable Vow and its consequences to Severus, the projections immediately brightened...for everyone but Draco. Gareth had pointed out that all of that assumed that Severus was actually loyal to Dumbledore and was not still a Death Eater in reality. Albus had pondered Gareth's concern and decided that Severus's motivation for turning away from Riddle all those years ago was important for the two to know in order to refine their calculations. He told them of Severus's attachment to Lily and of his horror on learning that his master intended to kill her family. Gareth had appeared sceptical, but Gertrude simply nodded and agreed that they would proceed under the assumption that Severus was loyal to Albus now and would remain opposed to Voldemort even after Albus was gone.

No matter what approach the two Arithmancers took, Severus's survival was key for the success of the Order, regardless of what happened to Albus. Albus had already believed that before learning of Minerva's plan; this was simply confirmation. He also believed that letting Harry proceed on his path alone, without him, would strengthen the boy and increase his determination. Gertrude was not entirely certain about that conclusion, but the calculations surrounding Harry were very indeterminate, in any case. She also felt that, in addition to unknown variables, the indeterminacy might have something to do with the prophecy and with Voldemort's strong belief in it. There was some sense in which Harry's fate, though intertwined with that of the wizarding world, was also set apart from it. Gertrude believed that what was most important was to focus on creating circumstances in which Harry would have the strongest chance of success, and to worry less about Harry himself and what he did. That went against Albus's instincts, but if he were to disappear from the stage, there was little he could do about it, anyway, other than continue to meet with Harry until then and share all he knew or suspected about Riddle and the Horcruxes and to plant the seeds of interest in the mythical Deathly Hallows.

Gertrude and Gareth...and Minerva, though for different reasons...did not like his plan to tell Harry about the Deathly Hallows but not tell him the truth about them, that they were wholly fictional. The calculations on that point, however, were indeterminate. It was clear that not telling Harry anything of the Deathly Hallows might bring the final confrontation too soon, depending on Riddle's progress and whether he abandoned the search or discovered early that it was a false trail. It was not at all clear, however, what the effect of telling Harry about the Hallows would be on himself and his path. And so Albus had begun to give the boy hints of their existence, implying that it had been a quest of his own in his youth, but one he had abandoned, though he believed that Tom was in search of them. He had left it ambiguous whether he believed in them himself, though, thinking that that was a nice compromise between affirming the lie of their existence and telling Harry outright that he had made use of an old fable to mislead Riddle and avert his attention. He disliked lying to Harry. The boy had been lied to about so many things for so much of his life, particularly by his Muggle family, but this ambiguity might provide him some protection.

Albus took his violent yellow potion then reclined on the sofa in his sitting room. He closed his eyes as he felt the fever slowly smoulder its way through his body. By the time he met with the Heads of House at four-thirty, he would no doubt wish he could simply return to bed. He would just rest there a while and keep that temptation at bay.

He had dozed for about a half hour when there was a light knock on the sitting room door. He opened his eyes and raised his head to see Robert opening the door.

"Minerva said you were unwell at lunch. I am sorry I was not here," the soft-spoken wizard said, coming over and placing his hand on Albus's forehead. He winced slightly then said, "The yellow potion?"

"Yes, but I am fine. No need for you to be concerned." Albus smiled up at Robert. "It's all as it should be."

"Have you had anything to drink? You must be thirsty."

"I am, but no, I haven't had anything. I thought perhaps some peppermint tea," Albus replied.

Robert shook his head and said reprovingly, "Uncle Albus, you should have called for some. You know better."

The younger wizard called Wilspy and requested peppermint tea for Albus and a cup of coffee for himself.

When Wilspy, looking worried and subdued, Disapparated to fetch the tea, Albus said with a sigh, "I wish you would stop drinking coffee."

"I only have a cup in my rooms in the morning. When I am at meals, I have been drinking tea." His eyes smiled. "With sugar. I think I am gaining weight."

Albus chuckled, but he began to cough, and Robert, embracing him, raised him into a sitting position and gently patted his back. When Albus's coughing fit had subsided, Robert Summoned some cushions from across the room and placed them behind Albus so that he could recline against them.

Wilspy returned with the tea and coffee, and Albus thanked her. She looked at Albus, then at Robert, then back at Albus before winking away without another word.

"She is confused and worried," Albus said with a sigh, taking his teacup from Robert. "I think I will need to confide in her, at least about certain things, and tell her that she will be moving to the island in a few weeks."

"That is your decision, of course," Robert replied, nodding. "She is clearly distressed by your deteriorating condition. It may be wise, or at least kind, to explain more to her if you do not believe that she will interfere in some way."

"Minerva and I will speak to her tonight, then," Albus replied. "I do not believe I will be attending meals any longer, so this is an opportune time."

"Do you need anything else?" Robert asked as he poured Albus as second cup of tea. "Something to eat? Minerva said you did not touch your lunch."

Albus shook his head. "No, I will take some of the nutritional potion before my meeting later this afternoon, and perhaps I will be able to eat a light supper tonight. Right now, we need to go over a few details. I thought we could use the Pensieve again, if you wouldn't mind sharing more of your memories."

"I shall fetch it from your office then. In the meantime, close your eyes and rest." Robert stood and headed toward the door, then turned and added, "I wish I could do this for you, Uncle Albus. We all do, you know, and we would if we could."

---

Minerva opened the door to Harry from her position behind the Headmaster's desk.

"You're late, Mr Potter."

Harry stepped in and looked around. Fawkes was sleeping on his perch, looking rather ragged, his day of rebirth likely not long off, but Harry did not see the Headmaster.

"Where's Professor Dumbledore?" Harry asked. He was late, but only by ten minutes. It had been a beautiful early March day, one of those that reminded you that spring was on its way, and he had been out on his broom.

"He is in his rooms," Minerva began, rising and coming around the desk.

"I had an appointment with him," Harry said.

"As I was about to say before you interrupted, Mr Potter, he is in his rooms, and I will escort you to see him." Minerva indicated that Harry should follow her.

Harry crossed the room to the spiral brass staircase in the back of the office and followed Minerva up them. Minerva opened the door and waved him in ahead of her.

"Harry! Come in, come in," Albus said. "Please, have a seat." He was sitting in a wingback chair, his feet up on an ottoman.

Harry looked around him, trying not to appear too curious about the rooms that the Headmaster occupied. The draperies were open, but twilight was falling fast, and around the room, there were several lamps lit. It was a cheerful, warm room, decorated chiefly in shades of red and gold, but it had an old-fashioned air about it.

Taking a seat on the camel-backed sofa, Harry said, "How are you, Professor?"

"A little under the weather, Harry, but fine, just fine."

"I will be in the study if you need me," Minerva said.

Albus smiled up at her. "Thank you, Professor."

Harry fidgeted. "Sorry I was late." He looked at Professor Dumbledore. He had looked sick the last few times they had met, but now, he looked frail, almost a shadow of himself. Harry remembered what Hermione had said a few weeks ago. She had noticed that the Headmaster wasn't eating at those meals he attended in the Great Hall and that he seemed to be losing weight. He hadn't paid much attention to her at the time, but now, he thought that Dumbledore had lost more than a little weight, and he hadn't been to a meal in days. "Are you sure you're all right, sir?"

"I am no longer as resilient as I once was, and a little ailment can be a bit more troublesome than in the past," Albus replied.

"I hope you are feeling better soon."

"Thank you, Harry. Tonight, I have a few more memories for you to view, and then I would like to discuss them, so shall we?" Albus said, gesturing toward the Pensieve on the table between them.

Harry nodded and joined Dumbledore in entering the Pensieve, but his concern lingered, remaining even after he left the Headmaster's Office. He returned to Gryffindor Tower, subdued and thoughtful, and wondering whether the curse on the Headmaster's hand was the cause of his declining health, and if so, whether Snape had deliberately botched whatever assistance he had provided Dumbledore. The Headmaster had credited him with saving his life, but maybe Snape had actually had something else in mind. If Snape had really helped him properly, maybe Professor Dumbledore wouldn't be so sick. Harry didn't trust Snape, whatever Dumbledore said, and had said repeatedly. He admired and trusted the Headmaster, but as far as Snape was concerned, he couldn't get past his own basic distrust of the git, and Harry couldn't imagine anything that would change that.

---

Minerva closed the sitting room door behind the departing wizards. Remus and Arthur had come to see Albus, at his request, and she had attended the meeting. The two wizards were clearly shaken by the Headmaster's appearance. In the two weeks since he had ceased attending meals in the Great Hall, Albus had wasted further, his skin appearing almost translucent and parchment-like, his eyes shadowed by dark purple circles, and his breathing increasingly laboured. He was able to move from the bedroom to the sitting room on his own only with great difficulty, but he insisted on meeting the two Order members there.

Albus revealed to the two that he was dying, if it hadn't been evident by his appearance. He impressed upon them that he had made certain plans that were to be carried out immediately following his death, and that when Minerva called on them in those hours and days, they were to do as she requested without hesitation. Unsurprisingly, they agreed.

Albus had already begun to reveal certain key pieces of information to Arthur, even before he had been struck by the curse, and had passed on more information to him in the preceding months. This meeting was less about sharing information than it was about cementing certain roles. Although they could not guarantee that Arthur become the next leader of the Order, Albus had been making it clear that he saw him as his successor. He commanded respect, and although others might say that he was not Albus's equal, they could point to no one who was. Arthur was steady, brave, and possessed good judgment. He would also listen to and take advice from others. He was a fair and honest man and was recognised as such...and he would respect Minerva and accept her direction when necessary.

They had considered both Shacklebolt and Moody to lead the Order, but Moody was dismissed from consideration because of his rigidity, inability to work with Snape, and his generally narrow views. Minerva did not believe it wise even to share with Moody the precise significance of Harry's role in the fight against Voldemort, since he would be likely to try to take control of Harry's training and attempt to orchestrate a confrontation with Voldemort that would entirely undermine their own careful work and planning.

Shacklebolt, both agreed, was a better candidate in many ways. He was a powerful wizard, he commanded respect, and he had repeatedly demonstrated his loyalty to Albus and the Order. He was also more measured in his responses and deliberate in his decision-making than Moody, but Albus was not convinced that when Minerva told him that some action needed to be taken or refrained from, Shacklebolt would simply take it on faith and do as she requested. He would want to know the reason for it, and once given any information about their plan, he would insist on knowing all of it. Arthur, on the other hand, would be satisfied by what information they felt safe in giving him. In addition, Albus believed that Shacklebolt's role in the Ministry would be increasingly important in coming months and that his efforts should be focussed there. So Arthur Weasley had been chosen as Albus's heir-apparent. It seemed that Molly was not pleased, but Arthur had told her that he would do whatever was required of him, regardless of his role in the Order, and that all of them were in grave danger. Leading the Order of the Phoenix would not diminish the danger to him, but it was unlikely to increase it, either.

Minerva returned to Albus's side. "How are you feeling? That must have been tiring."

"It was. And it was difficult to see them both so disturbed," Albus replied, somewhat haltingly as he took short, shallow breaths, tired from speaking at length with his visitors.

"Time to get you back to bed," Minerva said.

She waved her wand, raising the entire sofa and guiding it into the bedroom. She steered it to come beside the bed and level with it. Albus sat up and Minerva helped him shift over from the sofa to the mattress. Minerva sent the sofa back into the sitting room, then she helped Albus get comfortable and poured him some water, which he drank thirstily.

"Is the twenty-first soon enough, Albus?" she asked as she took the glass then wiped his face with a cool cloth. "I know that we worked out the timing precisely, but you seem so ill. My plan was supposed to include saving you from suffering, from dying an anguished death, but I am worried."

"I do not feel well," Albus admitted. "I cannot lie about that, but Melina assured me this morning that I am in no immediate danger and that other than my lungs, my organs are in generally good shape." He did not mention that the low oxygen saturation in his blood was causing some other problems that Melina was working to counteract.

"But your nausea..."

"Is indicative of nothing serious," Albus reassured her. "You know that Melina wants you to be successful and that she is concerned about my health. I truly do look much worse than I feel, my love. Honestly. To the extent that I am, um, weakening, that is as much an effect of the weight loss and my breathing difficulties as it is anything else."

"Poppy wants to see you," Minerva said. "I couldn't think of how to tell her she couldn't. I told her that she could come up this evening."

Albus sighed and nodded. "Hopefully, she will cast no diagnostic spells. If she does, we can only hope that they are not particularly probing ones."

"If she does, we will have to tell her everything. If she is at all suspicious, her suspicions could lead her in entirely the wrong direction...and if she were concerned, she might bring her suspicions to someone else."

"It is better if we avoid having her become suspicious," Albus replied.

"I think you should take some of the standard potions before she arrives," Minerva said, looking at the potions bottles on the dresser. The numbered bottles now had a home in the Headmaster's wardrobe; those on the dresser were standard potions to treat fever, bronchial congestion, kidney failure, and other conditions. They were there for appearance's sake, now that others were occasionally admitted to the bedroom.

Albus nodded. "If she does cast any charms, it would be useful to have those actually in my body."

"And you might feel slightly better, too," Minerva added hopefully.

Albus smiled slightly and reached for her hand. "Your presence is soothing enough, my dear. And on the twenty-first, you will end any discomfort I may be suffering. Less than a week. That is soon enough."

"I hope so," Minerva said. "This was my idea. If it goes wrong, I don't know how I will live with it."

"It will not go wrong. I have confidence in you. And Melina will be there...and she is monitoring me closely." Melina was now visiting daily and would soon begin staying at the castle. "Now, we need to arrange a meeting with the Heads of House for early in the week. Monday, I think. My last meeting with you all as Headmaster. Beyond the necessity of allowing the others to witness my illness, I do wish to thank them for their service and give each of them a little gift." He quirked a small smile. "I even have one for you, my dear. I put them aside in the bottom desk drawer in my study several weeks ago."

"I will remember to get them for you," she replied, ignoring the sadness rising in her at the thought of his last meeting with them as Headmaster. He had been Hogwarts Headmaster the entire time she had been teaching, indeed, the entire time that all of them had taught. Unless one included Binns, other than Slughorn, none of the current faculty had been on the staff when Dippet was Headmaster.

"Thank you, Minerva. And don't be sad," he said, brushing his thumb over the back of her hand and giving it a light squeeze. "This is also an opportunity for you. These are not the circumstances under which I would have wished you to become Headmistress, but after all of these years, it is a role that you will fill well. It is unfortunate that there will be so many additional burdens on your shoulders, but I know that you will do very well."

"I cannot see the opportunity, Albus," she said softly. "I only see the war; I only see Voldemort, Harry, and Severus, and what I need to do. I see now how you could become so sure that the path you had chosen was the correct one and so unwilling to consider any others. I worry that if I question any of my decisions, I will be wholly unable to act, and yet I also fear that if I proceed with the plan without questioning every step, I will make fatal errors."

"You will find a balance, my dear, and you have people around you to help you. You very wisely enlisted some very strong and trust-worthy people to assist you."

Minerva nodded wearily then glanced at the clock on the bedside table. "Will you be all right if I go to dinner now? I won't be long, and I know that Robert said that he would be attending dinner early so that he could come up and sit with you. He will be here soon, I'm sure."

Albus gave a short chuckle. "I will be perfectly fine. I am quite certain that I will have no unmet needs any time in the next hour or so. Go to dinner. And try to enjoy it!"

"When I return, I will bring Poppy with me. Be sure that you have Robert give you some of the standard potions before we arrive." She bent and kissed his forehead. "Call Wilspy if you need anything. I will be back soon."

---

"I feel well enough to see them in the sitting room, Minerva," Albus protested.

"I am sure you do, but I think the effect would be greater if you were to meet with them in here," Minerva replied, plumping his pillows behind him.

"You are right," Albus said, sighing. "It will come as less of a surprise when I die on Friday if I appear weaker."

"Do you think that Melina should be present?" Minerva asked.

"No, but it should be clear that she is staying in my guest room now."

Minerva nodded. Melina had arrived on Saturday, planning to stay the week. Rather than taking the Hufflepuff guest room, as she had on the few previous occasions when she had recently stayed overnight, she had moved into Albus's guest room. Minerva's door portrait now had a direct connection on the portrait network to the Headmaster's suite, should anyone seek her in her rooms after curfew or at any other time. So far, Minerva's Knight had only had to fetch her once. It had been Sinistra, who was aware of Albus and Minerva's relationship, so Minerva sent the Silent Knight to her with the message to meet her in the Headmaster's office. If it had been someone else, Minerva would have taken the private Floo connection between the Headmaster's bedroom and her study to return to her suite and answer the door.

"I'll tell Wilspy to bring us tea and biscuits," Minerva said.

"Very good, my dear, but after I have given out my little gifts...you may fetch them now, but don't look at the one in the gold box. That is yours."

Minerva returned with four boxes of different colours, gold, silver, bronze, and a highly reflective onyx black.

"What are you giving them?" Minerva asked curiously.

"You will find out soon enough...but I will let you peek now and satisfy your curiosity," Albus said with a grin, wanting to see her reaction to the gifts.

"This one is very heavy," Minerva said, hefting the bronze box in her hand. "I can't imagine what you are giving Filius."

"Remove the lid and see!"

Minerva pulled off the lid. Two rounded, circular stones, one larger, one smaller, the smaller one nesting in a hollow of the other.

"The Singing Stones that Malcolm gave you," Minerva said softly, gazing at them but not removing them from their box. She lifted her eyes to meet Albus's. "Are you sure you wish to part with these?"

"Filius will appreciate them, and he was fond of Malcolm. I think it is time to pass them on."

Minerva nodded. "I think that Malcolm would be pleased to think of Filius enjoying them."

After replacing the lid on Filius's gift, Minerva removed the lid to Pomona's. She frowned in puzzlement as she looked into the box, then she took out the crystal vial that rested on a small yellow cushion.

Holding the vial up to the light, Minerva asked, "Some kind of plant?"

"Indeed. It is in stasis, so do not break the seal, my dear."

"You aren't going to tell me what it is, are you?"

Albus shook his head, his eyes twinkling.

Minerva sighed, carefully placed the vial back on its cushion, and closed up the box again.

"I am quite curious about your selection for Severus," she said, removing the lid on the silver box. "Your watch! Oh, Albus, you don't want to part with that!"

"I do, and I can think of no one whom I would prefer to have it," Albus replied.

"But..."

"I am decided," Albus said.

"It is yours to do with as you wish, of course," Minerva said.

Minerva reached for the gold box, but Albus stopped her with a sharp, "Ah ah ah!" He put his hand on the box. "You must have at least one surprise. I am afraid that the significance of yours is not of the same sort as the others. It is new, for one. But I hope you will like it."

"I am sure I will," Minerva replied, placing the boxes on the bed beside Albus, kissing his cheek.

A half hour later, Minerva greeted the three other Heads of House. They had all arrived together, and their mood was subdued.

"Albus is looking forward to seeing you all, so try to put smiles on your faces...not you, Severus," Minerva joked, "or he will worry about you. But try not to look so glum. And no tears, Filius, unless they're happy ones."

The little wizard nodded and tried to put a happy expression on his face.

"Look, this is not a funeral! Albus is thinking of it as a little party, so you try thinking of it that way, too," Minerva said. "You can cry later."

Minerva's words seemed to have the opposite effect on the Charms teacher than she'd intended, but Pomona bent down and whispered something in his ear, and he wiped the tears from his eyes and looked a little brighter.

Minerva led the other three upstairs and into Albus's bedroom. He smiled to see them.

"Good evening!" Albus greeted them. "It is so good to see you. Here, Severus, you sit here beside me, my boy. Everyone, make yourselves comfortable!"

Albus's breath was wheezing in his chest, and he was pale, but his smile was bright.

After everyone had taken a chair, Severus sitting at Albus's left near the head of the bed, Minerva next to Severus, and Filius and Pomona on his right, Albus began, his words occasionally punctuated by a gasping breath. "This is my last meeting with you as Headmaster, my dear friends, and I want to express to you how very much I have appreciated your loyalty, service, and friendship over the years. You have often had to put up with my eccentricities and occasional barmy notions, you have all stood by me in good times and in hard times, and you have brought me many happy memories. I also appreciate your devotion to Hogwarts and her students, and I know that when I am no longer Headmaster, I will be leaving Hogwarts in good hands. Oh, now, Filius, old friend, no tears today! What a happy occasion it is to be able to tell you how much I value your friendship!"

Filius nodded, a tear dripping off the end of his nose. Pomona handed him a handkerchief.

"Now, I have a gift for each of you. Severus, if you would help me?"

The Potions master nodded. His expression had not altered since he had stepped into the room, and it betrayed nothing of his feelings.

"The first gift is for you, Pomona. Severus, that's the black one," Albus said.

Severus picked up the shiny black box and handed it to Pomona.

"Go ahead, my dear! Open it!" Albus encouraged her.

She set aside the lid to the box, then took the crystal vial and held it up. "Oh, Albus! Is this a Memory Plant?"

"It is, indeed. A friend was generous enough to provide it for me...Johannes, in fact. If you remove it from stasis this spring and look after it carefully, he said that it should be ready to provide potions ingredients in about two years. But even before that, it should provide some soothing aromas encouraging good memories and brightening the heart," Albus replied with a smile.

"It's wonderful, Albus!" She looked over at Severus and smiled. "You will get the first harvest of leaves, Severus!"

Severus simply nodded once, making no protest.

"And now, Severus, the gift for Filius," Albus said.

Severus picked up the bronze-coloured box and looked at Albus, who nodded.

Filius opened his gift. "Your Singing Stones!" he exclaimed.

Severus raised an eyebrow at the unpretentious grey rocks.

Albus smiled. "Take them out and give them a try."

Filius pulled out first the smaller stone and then the larger. He rested the larger one in his left hand and put the smaller one into the hollow, holding the two stones between his palms. A very soft note emitted from the stones, but it grew louder, like violins playing some song from nature, harmonious and melodious, flowing like water in a stream. Filius laughed in delight and the witches grinned. Severus looked slightly less sullen.

"Try it, Pomona!" the little wizard said excitedly. "Just put them between your palms."

Pomona took one stone in each hand then brought them together. She smiled as the room slowly filled with the sound of piccolos and flutes, the notes seeming to dance cheerfully around them. After a moment, she took them apart, ending the music abruptly, and handed them to Minerva.

Minerva's song began with a few distinct notes, as if from a harpsichord, expanding to a rippling scale, then growing to become a precise, bright, and yet increasingly complex tune. Minerva smiled and separated the stones, then turned to hand them to Severus.

"No, thank you," Severus responded to Minerva's offer.

"Give them a try," Minerva encouraged.

"Any sound they would make in my hands would drive everyone from the room, I am sure," Severus said curtly.

"Try them for me, my boy," Albus said.

Severus looked at Albus, then said, "Very well, but if nothing but a hideous cacophony is produced, it is on you."

Albus just smiled cheerfully and nodded.

Severus took them from Minerva and slowly placed the smaller one into the larger concave stone. A low, deep note sounded, sounding like a cathedral organ, then it grew and was joined by other low notes; other notes, only slightly higher, painted a slow, measured melody against the changing chords. Not a dirge, but something nonetheless unutterably sad and beautiful. Severus stared down at his hands as if transfixed, but then he abruptly removed his right hand and the music suddenly ceased

He looked up; Pomona and Filius appeared stricken, and Filius's tears had begun to flow again, and Albus's eyes were moist. Severus shoved the stones toward Flitwick.

"I told you that you would regret it," Severus said.

"That was beautiful," Pomona said softly.

"Sublime," Filius added with a sniffle as he put the Singing Stones back in their box.

"They resonate with a person's magic, Severus," Albus explained, "and I like to imagine they also reveal a little of someone's soul."

"Hmpf!"

"And now your gift, my boy," Albus said.

Severus picked up the silver box, removed a soft pouch, and drew out his gift.

"Your watch," he said, opening the front of the case and looking at the twelve hands and myriad symbols on its face. He shook his head and said, "I can't..."

"Of course you can, Severus, and you must! If I were you, I might be a little cautious for a while in how I carried it and to whom I displayed it, but I would give it to none but you."

Severus closed the watch and looked at its ornate reverse side.

"It was a gift from my Uncle Christopher when I began my Potions apprenticeship," Albus explained. "I have tried to take good care of it over the years. The jewellers in Diagon Alley do a good job in cleaning it and providing the occasional maintenance, but it should give you no trouble. As it's rather old, it does require daily winding, unlike the more modern watches."

Severus nodded, holding the watch in his right hand and rubbing his thumb over it as he looked down at it. "I will wind it every morning, Albus."

"Very good, my boy! And now for Minerva's little present."

Severus blinked, then he reached out with his left hand to pick up Minerva's gift as he still grasped his own tightly in his right.

Minerva opened the gold-coloured box and took out a small item wrapped in red silk. It was a brooch, a rampant dragon, its wings raised behind it and small flames emerging from its mouth. Its tiny greenish scales were perfect, and in the centre of its chest was a blood-red ruby.

"It's lovely, Albus," Minerva said softly.

"It's a representation of Mother Dragon, very much miniaturised, of course," Albus said.

"Mother Dragon?" Pomona asked.

"A dragon I once knew," Albus replied.

Just then, Wilspy arrived with tea and biscuits, and the conversation turned to other topics. Albus's breathing grew more laboured, and his hand shook as he tried to hold his own cup, sloshing some of the tea onto his sheets. He waved away Minerva's attempt to hold his cup for him, saying he would have some later, and Minerva put it on the bedside table. Fifteen minutes later, Minerva stood, and the others followed her cue. Pomona and Filius thanked him for their gifts and wished him a good-night. As Severus was about to follow them out the door, the watch in its pouch now, yet still clasped in his hand, Albus reached out and touched him weakly on his arm. Severus turned and looked down at Albus, whose chest was heaving with the effort to breathe.

"Stay a minute," Albus said.

"You should rest, Albus," Severus replied softly.

"Help me drink some tea while Minerva shows the others out," Albus replied.

Minerva looked torn, but left the room to the two wizards.

Severus cast a warming charm on Albus's tea, then he raised the cup to Albus's lips and tilted it slowly as the older wizard sipped from it.

"Good, good," Albus said with a nod.

Severus set the cup back down.

"Sit here beside me now, my boy," Albus said, patting the bed.

Severus sat as directed.

"Are you only taking those potions now?" Severus asked, gesturing to the potions on the dresser.

"They are very good, Severus."

"Not good enough," Severus replied. "Please take the other potions, Albus."

"I didn't ask you to stay..." Albus gasped, "...to talk about potions."

"Why, then?"

"To thank you for everything," Albus replied with effort, "that you have done for the Order,"

"You know why I have done that."

"It makes me no less grateful."

Severus nodded. He uncurled his fingers from around the watch and looked down at it. "Thank you for the watch, Albus," he whispered.

"You're welcome. I was going to leave it to you in my will . . . but I would rather give it to you now myself, and this way, it's just between us."

Severus nodded.

"Don't look so sad, my boy!"

Severus tried to swallow past the lump in his throat.

Albus patted his arm. "I am proud of you. I know that you will continue to make me proud of you. I have not always made the right decisions in your regard, but I hope that you will forgive me my mistakes."

Severus raised tear-filled eyes to look into Albus's. "Please stay, Albus. I should be the one..."

"Whether either of us likes it or not, my work here is done. You still have an important role. Your work is not yet finished."

"This is my fault," Severus whispered.

"No, if it's anyone's, it's Tom's...or my own, for being a dunderhead and not checking the ring for curses," Albus said haltingly as his breath wheezed more loudly in his chest.

"I don't want you to die like this," Severus said, his voice cracking.

"It's not such a bad thing, Severus, my loved ones around me." Albus patted his arm again. "Like you, my boy."

Severus looked away as his tears finally overflowed.

"You do know that I love you, don't you?"

Severus shrugged one shoulder, unable to respond around the lump in his throat.

"Dying won't change that, Severus."

Severus nodded and wiped his face with his sleeve.

"Just remember that. And I'm not dead yet!"

Severus drew in a long shaky breath as he stood. He cleared his throat. "May I use your loo?"

"Of course! Help yourself. Splash a little cold water on your face. I find that helps me," Albus said with a smile.

When Minerva came into the room, she looked puzzled. "Where is Severus? He didn't pass me."

"Just in the loo, my dear."

"Ah."

Severus emerged a minute later, looking pale and bored...his usual self.

"Good night, Minerva, Albus," he said with a nod. "I can show myself out." He stopped at the door, then turned, hesitating for a moment. "What you said, Albus . . . I would say the same to you. You know that, don't you?"

"Yes, dear boy, I know that. Good night!"

When he had left, Minerva asked, "What was that about?"

"Just a little wizard-to-wizard chat, that's all."

"I think he was pleased with his gift," Minerva observed as she pulled some potions bottles from the wardrobe.

"Yes, I believe he was."

"And I am pleased with mine," she said, turning around. "Very much."

"I thought it appropriate. You have the heart of Mother Dragon in more than one way," Albus said. "In your wand and in your spirit. You wear that and remember your strength and my faith in that strength."

Minerva nodded as she poured out his first potion, the pale purple one which would clear some of the congestion in his chest. "I do hope that I don't die with a bolt through my eye as Mother Dragon did, but if it's to save others, I suppose it would be worth it."

"I don't think you'll find any Death Eaters carrying crossbows, my dear, so I doubt that will be your fate." He swallowed the potion. "If you think it's an ill omen, I intended it as just the opposite."

"No, I don't believe that," Minerva replied, bringing a small cup with a bright blue potion to his lips. "I love it. I will wear it daily."

"I am glad," Albus said, grimacing at the potion's flavour.

"Now your nutritional potion, then Melina wants to see you, and then, I think, early to bed."

Albus nodded. "It has been a long day. It will be good when this week is out. No more of these vile potions."

"Would you like a bath first?"

"No, just a charm or two from your wand tonight, I think. Easier for us both. I'm feeling a bit better after the potions, but I am still tired."

Minerva bent and kissed his cheek. "All of your gifts were wonderfully thoughtful. I know everyone will treasure them." She smiled. "I think that Severus was quite surprised by the effect he had on the Singing Stones."

"I hope that the tune will become a little brighter after this is all over," Albus said.

"I simply hope that it isn't snuffed out completely," Minerva said with a sigh. "Filius was right, though. It was sublime. I don't think I could listen to it long without crying for the next week."

"He lives with that song in him all of the time, Minerva," Albus said softly.

"I hope we can save him. He is so very convinced he will die."

"We will do all we can to prevent that, my dear, all that is humanly possible."

---

Note: To refresh your memory, the story of "Mother Dragon" appears in Resolving a Misunderstanding, Chapter CIII: Defeating Darkness.