A/N: This is a sequel to 'You and Me'. Go read that before you read this, or you won't understand some of the things Dumbledore and McGonagall refer to. *sigh* I love this pairing. As if you couldn't tell. ;-)
"It's just like Grindelwald, isn't it, Albus?" Minerva McGonagall asked, watching as the Headmaster carefully sharpened quills. "Disappearances, rumors," he rose from his seat when she choked, "deaths."
She was in his arms in seconds, burying her face in his beard. "Yes, Minerva, I'm afraid another Dark Wizard is rising."
"But the Mark," she whispered, holding tightly to him. "They're calling it the Dark Mark."
She didn't see the pain crossing his face. "I know, my dear, I know: a skull with the tongue of a serpent."
She shuddered at the description, though she wasn't sure why. "I've been through one war already, Albus, why am I still scared?"
He tilted her chin up and kissed her. She returned it almost desperately, winding her arms tightly around his neck. After a long moment, he pulled away. "Because you have just as much to lose now as you did then." He pressed another quick kiss to her lips. "Perhaps more."
She took one of his hands and pressed it to her stomach. "A lot more, Albus."
He nodded and spread his hand on the invisible swell of her abdomen. "I love you, you know."
She nodded and rested her head on his beard. "I love you, too."
He smiled and simply held her, resting his cheek against the top of her head. They stood like that for a long time before he spoke again. "Oh, my sources have discovered who this Dark Wizard is."
She pulled back and looked up at him. "Oh? Who?"
"An old classmate of yours," he replied, stroking her hair. "Tom Riddle."
Her vision swam and she clutched at him. "T-Tom Riddle?"
He nodded, forehead creasing with concern. "Tabby? What's wrong?"
She pulled away and walked over to the window, staring out at the cloudy night. "I never did like him. Too smooth, too charming." She turned from the window, smiling bitterly at him. "I was also head over heels in love with you, although I wouldn't admit it at the time." She turned back to the window, wrapping her arms around herself as if she was cold. "The other girls all thought I was crazy to refuse him. He did, too, evidently."
Albus frowned and walked over to stand behind her, resting his hands on her shoulders. Hers rose to cover them. "What do you mean?"
"He watched me, Albus, all the time." She turned to look up at him, dark eyes serious. "From when I became a prefect to when I left school. Even when I was your assistant, he watched me." She shivered and Albus pulled her close. She rested her head on his beard once more. "I can never forget his eyes. So cold. So calculating. So cruel."
His arms tightened around her, trying to protect the unseen swell of her stomach that sheltered their unborn child. After a long time, he managed to speak around the lump in his throat. "It shouldn't surprise you, my dear. You were pretty as a teenager and he wasn't the only one who watched you. Many of the boys did. Some of the teachers, even."
She looked up at him with an impish gleam in her eyes. "Including a certain auburn-haired Transfiguration professor?"
He smiled and dropped a kiss on the tip of her nose. "Yes, including me. When you came back as my assistant, you were even prettier. In fact, you were beautiful. It wouldn't surprise me if some of the older boys had tried to--what's the phrase--hit on you."
She reluctantly nodded. "That's part of the reason I took to wearing my hair in a bun. That seemed to be the main attraction."
He chuckled and combed his long fingers through her silky tresses. "Not just your hair, my dear, but your eyes, your face, your mind."
She blushed and looked down at the floor. "You're just saying that because I was daft enough to marry you, you old coot."
He tilted her chin up so he could kiss her again. She returned it eagerly, threading her fingers through his hair--silver now, instead of auburn--enjoying the silky texture of it. When he finally broke the kiss, both of them were breathing hard. "Not daft, my dear: smart."
She smiled and snuggled close to him. "Albus?"
"Hmm?" He absently stroked her hair, playing with the ebony strands.
"Let's go to bed."
He was awakened by the sound of whimpers. He sat up and scrabbled for his wand on the night table. Once he had it in his hand, he whispered '_Lumos_.' All the wandlight revealed was his wife, asleep next to him. It wasn't peaceful, though. Her face was contorted as if she was in pain and she thrashed in the sheets. "Minerva?"
She calmed at the sound of his voice, turning her head towards him. He gently reached out and touched her shoulder. She shivered, but her body slowly relaxed. After a long moment, her eyes fluttered open. "Albus?"
"What's the matter, Tabby?" he asked softly, brushing her hair out of her face.
She stared up at the ceiling for a long a moment. As fear began to appear in her eyes, he gathered her close, letting her know he was there. "I remember, Albus. I finally remember."
"Remember what, Tabby?" he asked softly, not wanting to startle her.
"I remember what happened the night you found me," she whispered, looking at him with haunted eyes. "I know who raped me."
He froze and stared at her. "Who, Tabby?"
She closed her eyes and swallowed hard before opening them again. "Tom Riddle."
She watched his face, wondering what he was thinking. She could see that he was stunned, but what else? She reached up and touched his cheek. "Albus?"
He blinked and his eyes focused on her. She closed her eyes when he caressed her cheek. "Yes, Minerva?"
She opened her mouth to ask a question, but couldn't ask it. She couldn't bear it if he rejected her. Instead, she snuggled close to him, as close as she could while still pregnant. "Hold me? Please?"
"Gladly," she breathed a silent sigh of relief as his arms encircled her. She didn't see the anger smoldering in his eyes as he thought of what Tom had done to her. He'd been worried when he had found her unconscious all those years ago and had wondered for 26 years what had really happened to her. When Minerva had confirmed his suspicions, he'd immediately started wondering who would have had the audacity--the unmitigated gall--the absolute cheek--to assault a member of the staff. He banked the anger for now, knowing Minerva needed his support more than his anger right now. His arms tightened around her and she wrapped her arms tightly around his waist. Holding each other tightly, sleep slowly enveloped them once more.
He found her the next evening, curled up in the window seat, sketching. He smiled at the sight. She only pulled out the sketchpad these days when she had something she needed to work out. He rapped his knuckles on the doorframe. "Minerva?"
She looked up and smiled weakly at him. "Hello, Albus."
He walked over and sat down beside her. "What are you drawing?"
She sighed and handed him the sketchbook. He studied the sketchbook. Most of the page was covered with eyes. Some were angry, some were sad, some were disappointed, and still others were cruel. One the eyes had in common was that each pair was his. He closed the book and looked at her. She was looking out the window and he could see unshed tears glittering in her beautiful eyes. He sighed. "Minerva, look at me."
She slowly turned her head to look at him. "Do you really think I would abandon you? Just because you remembered who your attacker was?"
She shrugged and dropped her gaze to her drawn-up knees. "I don't know what to think, Albus."
He set the sketchbook aside and drew her into his arms. She resisted for only a moment before giving in and cuddling against him. "Knowing the identity of your attacker doesn't change the fact that I love you, Minerva. Nothing will ever change that." He tilted her chin up so her deep green eyes met his bright blue ones. "Never doubt my love for you."
She sniffled and smiled. "I won't. Thank you, Albus."
He smiled and kissed her. "You're welcome, Minerva."
Wrapped up in each other's arms, they watched the sunset, the sketchbook abandoned on the window seat beside them.