A/N: I don't own - I just rent!

A Polite Demand

Abigail Dumbledore was not the most sociable of witches. She preferred the company of the plants in her greenhouse, the ingredients in her potions cabinet, and the occasional query from St. Mungo's. Visitors did not typically darken the doorway of her little house on the outskirts of Hogsmeade, except for her father and her uncle, whom she was presently expecting.

Every year, her Uncle Albus requested that she take the position of Mediwitch at Hogwarts School and every year she turned him down. He would try to plead his case that Poppy desperately wanted to retire, but she knew he really wanted her out of the house and close by him.

The soft chiming of her doorbell broke Abigail out of her thoughts and she rushed to answer it. She opened the door, smiling at the sight of her slightly dotty uncle.

"Good evening, poppet. Do you have a cup of tea for an old man?," he asked, his blue eyes twinkling over the rim of his half-moon glasses.

"Hello, Uncle Albus."

Dumbledore entered into her small kitchen and sat down at the table. Abigail bustled about, starting the kettle boiling with a sharp flick of her wand.

"You were always excellent at wandless magic. Just like your mother.," he said softly. Abigail turned and smirked. "Trying to butter me up, old man? You know it won't work. I'm not going to Hogwarts. By the by, is Poppy aware you're trying to give her job away?"

He was silent for a moment, regarding her solemnly. "No, I am not here to ask that of you poppet. I have a much different request to ask of you today."

Abigail chuckled and set down her tea service on the table. She sat down next to him and began to pour. "A request? I'll just say no. Would you like sugar?"

Albus nodded, held up two fingers and watched as she placed the sugar cubes in his cup. "You haven't heard my request yet.," he said, mirth tingeing his words.

"True, true. I suppose I should indulge you, old man. Very well, Uncle - what is your request?," Abigail gazed at him, her chin resting on her hand.

Albus smiled. "It amazes me that someone like my brother could produce a child as lovely as you."

"Kissing up again?"

"I believe in prefacing any request with a compliment. Cushions the blow."

"Manipulative as ever. No wonder Dad doesn't spend any time with you.," She sat back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest.

He raised one eyebrow and looked at her over the rim of his glasses. "Be that as it may, my dear, my time is limited. I need you to provide asylum for someone. Your father has informed you of recent events?"

A sigh escaped Abigail's lips. Her eyes gained a faraway look, and when she spoke next, her voice did not sound like her own. "I know of his return. I expected it."

Her reticent expression garnered a sympathetic glance from Dumbledore. "I have sent someone back into the snake den, as it were, and he will need someplace to recuperate from time to time. It is dangerous work I ask of him, and since you are the most talented Healer that I have had the pleasure of being acquainted with, I though you would be up to the task."

"Whom shall I be protecting?"

"Severus Snape."

Abigail's eyes widened slightly at the sound of his name, but otherwise her face did not show any emotion. "My old Potions Master? Isn't he a Death Eater?"

"Not anymore, poppet. Abigail, he is doing this at great personal risk to himself. Spying is never easy. The most I could do is provide him with help.," he answered.

"How do you know he's doing this for you? He could have been biding his time all these years - waiting for his return - believing you foolish enough to send him back with nary an objection.," Abigail was beginning to become exasperated and all the pleasantness was seeping out of the visit like air from a balloon.

Albus could tell that Abigail's inherent stubbornness was steadily creeping in and he fully intended to cut her off at the pass. "I have complete faith in him. He will need care and attention badly after his meetings. They can be quite┘draining.," He paused for a moment. "Poppet, this isn't a request. Think of it as a ┘polite demand. I need your help and I am calling in all favors - even those grudgingly given. I intend to end this war, once and for all."

She stared at him for several minutes. When she next spoke, there was a depth to her voice that had not been there before. "Say I agree to your┘polite demand. How much of my hard earned peace will I be giving up?"

A ghost of a smile appeared on his face and was quickly gone. "You know, young Severus said much the same when I broached the idea with him."

"Bully for him. You didn't answer my question."

"Once a week at the most."

"WHAT?!," she thundered, her eyes wide and a tinge of red flushing her cheeks.

Albus sipped his tea calmly and responded. "I quite expected you to throw something."

Abigail could not sustain her anger in the face of his placid calm and quickly deflated. "Very funny, old man."

Minutes passed by, the silence pressing down like a heavy weight.

"Well, poppet, do I get a response?," Dumbledore asked mildly, but the look in his eyes was stern.

Abigail sighed. "Do I have a choice?"

"No."

She laughed ruefully. "I didn't think so. Just as well. It's not like I'll have to talk to him."

"Indeed."

Abigail picked up the remains of tea and carried it to the counter. She opened her mouth to respond, but when she turned around, Albus was gone.

Just as well.