Here is the second chapter. I hope you all like it

Telling Albus

Albus sighed as he read yet another owl from Cornelius Fudge, this one
begging advice as to the best way to standardize cauldron bottoms. It wasn't
that Albus minded giving Fudge his opinion - he just was always amazed at
Fudge's seeming inability to make any decisions himself. Albus reached for
his pen, scrawled an answer across a piece of parchment in neat handwriting,
and tied it to the leg of a large brown barn owl that sat on his desk,
blinking at him with its huge eyes.

Albus frowned slightly as he watched the owl take flight through the window
of his office, and he leaned against the window sill for a moment, lost in
thought. He did hope that Minerva was not too ill - he knew that he could
take over the Transfiguration curriculum for a few months, but really, if
Fudge was going to insist on pestering him with so many owls, Albus wasn't
sure how he was going to manage marking all of the essays Minerva assigned her
classes. It was a bit odd, he thought, that Minerva seemed to be fine all day
long... it was only early in the morning that she acted at all sick. Perhaps
he would have to take a trip down to the kitchens and question the house-elves
as to their cooking practices...

The door to Albus's office flew open without warning, and he turned around
quickly.

"Ah, Minerva," he said, his blue eyes twinkling. "As much as you know I love
you, would it be detrimental to your health to knock before you storm into my
office?"

"Albus," said Minerva, showing no sign of amusement, "we need to talk."

Albus raised an eyebrow. "I assume you went to see Poppy?"

"Yes," said Minerva shortly. "You might want to sit down for this."

Albus lowered himself slowly into his chair, not taking his eyes off of his
wife. She did not seem at all ill at the moment - on the
contrary, she seemed more agitated than anything else. Nonetheless, he
glanced to make sure he had a quill and parchment on hand, in case she started
barking instructions as to how to run her class while she ran off to some
exotic climate for her health.

"Well?" he asked, folding his hands as Minerva took a seat across from his
desk. "I'm hoping you're not going to say that you're going on sick leave?"

Minerva shook her head, her lips pressed together tightly. Albus frowned -
something was obviously causing her great distress.

"Minerva, dear," he said softly, leaning forward, "is everything all right?"

Minerva took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "I'm pregnant, Albus," she
said in a voice devoid of emotion.

There was an absolute silence in the Headmaster's Office for a moment, broken
only by the soft coo of Fawkes as he slept on his perch. Then Albus let out a
deep sigh, his face breaking into a smile.

"Oh, Minerva," he laughed, walking around his desk and hugging her. "You
could look a little happier, you know."

Minerva smiled weakly, and then burst into tears.

"Minerva, what's wrong?" asked Albus, flabbergasted.

"I just never was expecting this," she sobbed into his shoulder. "I'm so
happy, but at the same time... I mean, you're always saying that You-Know-Who
is sure to return to power within the next few years, and I just can't help
but worry about everything. It feels like the world is getting too dangerous,
and it's not the sort of world I want to bring a child into."

Albus kissed her and let her weep a bit longer.

"Don't worry," he said quietly. "You know I would rather die than see
anything happen to you, and the same goes for our child. Please, Minerva, try
to be happy about this. Don't let fear destroy your ability to live."

Minerva sniffed, and forced herself to calm down. Then, suddenly, she
started to giggle.

"Oh, I can't wait to see how all the students react to this," she said
mischievously. "How scandalous."

Albus couldn't help it. He laughed too.