A/N: This is a highly abridged and expurgated version of "A Holiday with the Headmaster," which can be found in its full, unexpurgated, multi-chaptered version elsewhere. The story has been both generally shortened as well as very extensively edited for content and language. (Should I continue posting the T-rated version here, or has everyone jumped over to the other site for the MA-rated version?)
Remember: Not DH-compliant! Totally disregards DH.
-/-/-/-/-
Part Two
Albus Apparated them back to the cottage from the top of the mountain, bringing them directly to the bedroom.
"It is still early," he explained, "but I thought we would have our bath before bed." He grinned. "After the day we spent, I think we need a bath!"
"You do, do you?" Minerva replied with a straight face. "Are you telling me that I am a dirty witch, Headmaster Dumbledore?"
Albus's eyes sparkled. "Oh, yes, I do . . . I think you are a very dirty witch, Professor McGonagall. And I believe I will need to do something about that!"
They spent a good deal more time than necessary, both in preparing for their bath and in actually taking it, than was strictly required for purely hygienic purposes, but Albus was in a playful mood, and Minerva was easily coaxed to join him in play.
Exhausted, Albus sat back, leaning against the back of the tub again as Minerva pushed herself into a sitting position. She settled back herself, then looked at the water in the bathtub. Softly at first, then more loudly, she began to laugh. Half of the water was now no longer in the bathtub, but was flowing across the floor.
"I hope the ceiling doesn't leak, or the floor," Minerva said as Albus opened his eyes to find out what Minerva was laughing at.
"Hmm?" He lifted his head, looked at the bathroom floor, then closed his eyes with a sigh and leaned back again. "Charmed."
"Charmed?"
"The floor."
Minerva smiled. Albus had completely exhausted himself. Perhaps it was time for a real wash and then bed.
A half hour later, they had each washed, and Minerva had used her wand to dry the floor before they stepped out of the bathtub. Dry now and with his dressing gown wrapped around him, Albus began to unpack the clothes he had brought with him, not having taken the time to do it before. Minerva had left him half of each of the first three drawers, rather than taking any drawers to herself.
Albus looked in each of the drawers until he found an empty one on the bottom and began to put his things away in it.
"What are you doing?" Minerva asked.
"Unpacking, my dear."
"But why are you using the bottom drawer? It's not very convenient, and I left space in the other three."
"Oh, I thought this would be easier," Albus replied. He had never shared drawers before.
"You said you didn't have any preference."
"And I don't," he replied, stuffing the last of the articles into a corner and closing the drawer. He turned to her with a smile. "This is fine."
Minerva shook her head. He obviously didn't want to share. No point in taking offense. He had been a widower for nigh on a century, after all. She went over to the dresser and took all of her things from the second drawer and put them in the third.
"There, now you don't have to have everything stuffed into the bottom drawer," she said.
"You didn't need to do that." Albus was hanging his robes in the wardrobe.
"I don't mind, really, Albus."
"It is fine – I'll take care of it."
He came over and began to take a handful of socks and put them in the second drawer. "There's really not enough here for more than one drawer, anyway, my dear. But thank you for making more room!"
"That's fine. I had thought we'd share, though. I hadn't intended that you think I had taken three drawers."
"You need more room, anyway, with your underthings. Mine are mostly socks, handkerchiefs, a few vests, in case it gets cool. And, of course, my night attire. But I'll be wearing that." He pulled out a red- and gold-striped nightshirt and sent it over to the bed. "I just am not used to sharing drawers."
"You shared the wardrobe," Minerva pointed out.
"That's different." He didn't know why, precisely, but it was. Each garment seemed to hang in its own space, with no danger of mingling with any other garments. Drawers were more fraught with danger; things could become mixed together. He might have to look for his socks or a handkerchief and find himself up to his elbows in knickers and frilly camisoles. The mere thought made him fight a blush. "Before we return again, I'll get us another dresser. And perhaps another wardrobe."
"You don't need to do that, not unless you think we'll be spending months here. Two drawers are more than sufficient, and there's still space in the wardrobe," Minerva replied. The wardrobe was an enormous old piece of furniture. She remembered her thought about the convenience of a dressing table, but decided not to mention it. "We don't want to overwhelm the room with unnecessary furniture. Let's just wait and talk about it after we get home – to Hogwarts."
Minerva hadn't thought she would wear a nightgown that night, but she had brought one with her, and when Albus took out his nightshirt, she decided that she was glad she had. It was her favourite summer nightgown, a pale, pearlescent silk, rather than the batiste she usually favoured, and unlike most of her nightgowns, even her light-weight summer ones, this one had no sleeves, and it had lacy insets in the bodice. It was thin and loose, seeming to float over her body when she put it on, and she hoped that Albus would like it. When Melina returned from her honeymoon, perhaps she would like to go lingerie shopping. Melina seemed to know more about such things than she did. Not that she would tell her why she was interested in purchasing pretty nightgowns, of course. Her young niece still saw Albus as her former Hogwarts Transfiguration teacher, a genial, courtly old wizard, and Minerva didn't want to have to explain things to her just yet.
Albus was now placing his brushes and a small bottle of lotion on the side of the dresser Minerva had left for him. He Summoned his wand from the pocket of the robes he had worn that day and placed it neatly beside the brushes. Minerva always kept hers on her bedside table, and she mentioned that.
"I do when I'm elsewhere, as well, as one never knows what one may awaken to, but here, I am a bit more complacent, I suppose," Albus said. He looked over at the bed. There was only one table, and it was on the right side, the side they had decided would be his. He furrowed his brow. That wasn't right.
Albus picked up his wand. He waved his left hand and the bench across the room rose and floated toward the bed. He swished his wand and the bedside table vanished then reappeared on the left side of the bed as the bench settled down where the table had been. Albus smiled. Much better.
Minerva watched Albus's coordination with admiration. Neither individual task was particularly difficult, but as with most things Albus did, he did it with so much grace and flair, seemingly effortlessly, and yet without any apparent recognition of how much talent he was exhibiting. Although he did have a bit of a show-off in him, it never manifested in these ordinary, everyday situations.
"There you are, my dear! Now you have a place for your wand, and your book and reading glasses, as well!" Albus said, turning to her with a smile.
"Thank you, Albus – but you could have given me the bench, you know," Minerva said.
"Nonsense. Feel free to use the drawers, too. There may be a few things in them, I'm not certain. It is something that I brought from the other cottage. In fact, I have a good deal of furniture there that Aberforth is simply storing for me, and the amount is growing as he replaces my old things with new furniture of his own. If there is anything you think the cottage needs but doesn't have, I may have it already – provided it meets your approval, of course."
"There is one thing I thought of, but it isn't urgent, just something I noticed and thought would be nice. If you haven't anything like it, I'm sure we have something in the attic that might suit," Minerva said.
"What's that, my dear?"
"I thought it might be nice to have a dressing table. A vanity with a mirror. If you wouldn't mind. I don't want to – "
"Mind? Not at all. That's an excellent idea. And if I had given it more thought before we came, I would have had Wilspy fix something for you. I have my mother's old vanity. It actually goes with this wardrobe and dresser. Would that be acceptable? It has a large mirror attached to it – and it's a Muggle set, so the mirror isn't Charmed. I don't know which you prefer."
"Uncharmed, definitely! I find Charmed mirrors obnoxious. We never had any at home. Grandmother Siofre never liked them, so we never acquired any," Minerva replied. "The vanity sounds perfect." She looked around her. "So this furniture was in your former cottage?"
"All but the bench, the rocker, the floor lamp, and the bed. I acquired a new bed when I moved."
Albus turned and fiddled with the items on top of the dresser, lining them all up neatly.
Minerva could understand that completely. After finding the witch you were dating fornicating with another wizard in your own bed – she probably would have wanted to burn the mattress, herself.
"And downstairs?" she asked, hoping that Albus would stop fiddling with the things on the dresser. She knew that the mention of the bed had likely made him uncomfortable, remembering why he had a different bed, but he needn't be.
"Downstairs, the table and chairs in the main room were something that were here," Albus replied. "I told Aberforth to keep what I had, if he liked it, as it was more appropriate in the other cottage, and it wouldn't have looked right here. The sofa is one that I had had in my library in the old place, as is the rocker and chair, but the coffee table was here. The more . . . rustic items are likely all ones that the cottage retained after Aberforth left and had brought what he wanted with him, or that we decided to discard, as he didn't want it in his new home and I didn't care to keep it here."
"Has Aberforth visited since he moved out?"
"I don't believe he's been here when I haven't been, but two summers ago, before Headmaster Dippet died, he visited me here for a few days. I just Transfigured the sofa for him, and he claimed to be comfortable enough, but . . . we do try, and we get along, but we aren't very close. I think he missed his goats." Albus shrugged. "That was the last time I was here for longer than a few days at one time, actually. I spent most of July and the second two weeks of August here on the island. But I haven't had the time since."
"By yourself?" Minerva asked, imagining four or five weeks all alone on an island.
"Well, Aberforth was here for a few days in July, as I said, and Wilspy was here most of the rest of the time."
Minerva hadn't notice any house-elf accommodations when he gave her a tour of the cottage. "Where does she sleep?" The McGonagall house-elves had an entire wing of the second floor; obviously something like that wouldn't be practical or possible here, but she must sleep somewhere.
"When I first got the cottage, she had a cot in here." Albus grinned. "I really did feel like a little boy again, since the only other times she had slept in the same room with me was when I was a child and was sick. But that, obviously, is unsuitable for the long term, so when I built on the little library, I also reconfigured the kitchen. One of the cupboard doors is actually a door to her little room. You can see the window from the slate terrace, in fact. The one with the lace curtains."
"Oh, yes! Come to think of it, I noticed the curtains and thought it puzzling that I hadn't seen them inside – you have a noticeable lack of window dressing," Minerva said.
"Do you mind? The ones Aberforth had were dreadful – practically begging for Doxies to take up residence – and the ones from my old cottage just wouldn't have been suitable. And there's no one around to see in except a few creatures, anyway."
"But what about in the summer – particularly early in the summer – when it gets light so early? Doesn't it bother you, or do you use a charm of some sort?"
"I put a dark filter on the east windows and a medium one on the west-facing ones, then I remove the charms when I get up. If the weather's very bad, I might close the shutters, too," Albus explained. "I keep them shut when I'm away, but I opened them when I Apparated down ahead of you."
"Oh, well, that's all right then." The sunrise wasn't dreadfully early anymore, but she was on holiday, and although Minerva doubted she would be able to sleep in, it would be nice to have that option. "So, I don't know what supplies you have in the kitchen, but I usually like to have a cup of tea before bed, as you know."
"Why don't we go down and do that together, then?" Albus suggested. "I brought chamomile, peppermint, catnip, and a blend of cinnamon, ginger, and cardamom."
"I like the sound of the last one, but perhaps after a meal, not at night," Minerva said as they started down the stairs together. "Maybe a mix of mint and catnip? I like those blended."
Albus grinned at her. "Yes, Raggles! I thought you might enjoy the catnip." "Raggles" – derived from her despised middle name "Morag" – was what he called Minerva when she was in her Animagus form.
Minerva snorted and rolled her eyes, but given his comment, she just had to do a bit of showing off, herself, and she popped into her Tabby-form midstride, then raced down the stairs, streaked around the perimeter of the room, leapt up on the back of the couch, ran across it, and finally jumped up on the front windowsill. Because the walls were so thick, the windowsill was wide, and she stretched out on it, as calm as she'd been frenzied only a moment before, looked up at Albus, where he stood laughing at the foot of the stair, and yawned at him before putting her chin on her paws and half-closing her eyes.
Albus came over and scratched her behind the ears, and as she stretched her front paws in front of her, he ran his hand down her back then over her tail. Minerva yawned again, standing and stretching, her head low and her tail high in the air.
"So, should I just sprinkle the catnip on the floor for you to roll in, or would you prefer it in your tea?" Albus asked teasingly.
Minerva sat up and looked up at him with her very best glare, but Albus just laughed again and continued to pet her. Suddenly, she transformed, now sitting against the windowsill, a smirk on her face.
"You really do think you're very amusing with your catnip-jokes, don't you?" she said in mock irritation.
"Mm, very!" Albus said with a grin. He looked her up and down. Her dressing gown had come open when she returned to her original form, and she was wearing nothing underneath. "I also like to pet you."
Minerva blushed. "I rather like it when you do, too . . . but you said we'd have tea."
Minerva brushed past him and headed toward the kitchen. "If you tell me where it is, I can make it for us – or would you prefer chamomile or plain peppermint?"
Albus chuckled. "I'll have what you're having – and come with you and help," he said. "I like that dressing gown, by the way, Minerva. The colour is very fetching on you."
"Thank you," Minerva replied, thinking he probably also liked the way it only tied with a sash.
The dressing gown was of silk, cool and soft, in a rich emerald green, a diamond design woven through the fabric, with wide, floaty sleeves, and a special wand pocket, and had been a gift from their friend Quin. A gift given at a time when Minerva had believed that all was lost and that Albus found the thought of an intimate relationship with her repugnant, even disturbing, and that he felt an affection for her as he would for a granddaughter. When Quin had given it to her, she had begun to entertain the notion of beginning a relationship with him – as much as a balm and an escape from her pain as out of genuine affection for the wizard. Anguished, she had arrived on Quin's doorstep with nothing, and he had bought her a few articles of clothing so that she wouldn't have to wear the same robes and sleep in his Transfigured night attire. The memory now bothered her only because she wondered whether she should mention to Albus that it had been a gift from Quin, and how he would feel about her wearing it if he knew that it was.
Deciding that she would feel as though she was keeping something from him if she didn't mention it, at least casually, Minerva added, "It was a gift. From Quin, in fact. When I visited, so I wouldn't have to keep borrowing his things and Transfiguring them."
She turned, ostensibly to wait for Albus to reach her and enter the kitchen with her, but really to look to see how he reacted to that information.
"Ah. He chose well. The colour is very nice."
Albus didn't seem to display any reaction at all. Minerva didn't want to provoke one if he really had no thought about it beyond the fact that Quin had chosen well. Sometimes Albus could be very difficult to read. She would just ask him about it later, subtly, hopefully, though subtlety wasn't usually her forte.
Albus pulled a few small canisters from a cupboard near the cooker, and Minerva found some milk in the cool cupboard.
"I sometimes like milk in my herbal teas, especially at night," she said unnecessarily, still thinking about Albus's nonreaction to her revelation. She took a seat on one of the stools by the table as she watched Albus prepare the tea.
"Yes, very good. I have honey here, too," he said, pulling a blue-striped crock from the same cupboard as the tea.
Albus drew the water from the tap directly into the teapot, then waved his hand to cast a Warming Charm, bringing the water up to just below boiling. He spooned some catnip and some mint into the pot, then turned to Minerva, "Chamomile, too?"
"If you like."
Albus added a small amount of chamomile to the water. He waved his hand to give it a brief stir, then put the lid back on. As it steeped, he took cups and saucers from another cupboard and set them on the table.
"Would you like it here, or upstairs?"
"It's cosy here," Minerva replied.
Albus smiled. "It is, isn't it?" He reached across the table and took her hand. "And I must say that the entire cottage feels cosier with you here, my dear, and we still haven't made any changes to it. Your mere presence brings warmth wherever you go."
Minerva returned his smile. "I was trying to imagine what it would have been like for you to spend several weeks alone here. Weren't you lonely?"
Albus shook his head and chuckled slightly. "No, no more so than usual, and less than sometimes." He looked at her, a smile still on his lips, but his eyes seeming more serious. "I was never one to feel lonely. Sometimes I would desire company, or the comfort of human warmth, but, alone or with others, I was rarely lonely. Often alone, and occasionally . . . isolated or . . . weary. But truly, I was rarely lonely. Then I began to fall in love with you, and I discovered what loneliness was. I ached. And I did not even acknowledge what I was aching for, which simply made it worse, I believe. And then when I finally did . . . I felt like such an old fool, no fool like an old fool, I thought, behaving like a love-struck adolescent, pining and – " Albus let out a quick breath of self-effacing laughter. "But more the fool was I for not acknowledging it, and worse then for not telling you."
Minerva squeezed his hand. "Mother told me once that no one who loves is a fool, or if they are, then we are all fools, all who love. She said that when I thought I was a fool for loving you, for hoping that you could love me. The only thing foolish about either of us was that we danced about each other, trying to pretend what wasn't so."
"Your Mother is a good and wise witch," Albus said, "and I am grateful to both your parents for their acceptance." He hesitated. "You didn't say, but . . . have you told anyone else in your family? I know that Malcolm knows, of course . . ."
"I haven't spoken to him, but I think that Murdoch knows or guesses, because Mother rearranged the seating at the table on Friday so that you and I could sit together, which shifted things so that Poppy was at the other end of the table from him," Minerva said, mentioning her youngest brother. "But he seemed fine about it, and I doubt very much he'll say anything to anyone, even Melina. Other than that, no, I haven't told anyone else whom you don't already know about."
Albus nodded. "I do wonder what Siofre will think if you tell her, or if she finds out," he said slowly. Minerva's grandmother, who had been at Hogwarts with Albus, was a starchy, no-nonsense old witch with very strong opinions on many subjects.
Minerva shrugged. "I doubt she'll learn of it for a while yet. And it will be interesting to see her reaction, but I will attempt to . . . take it with equanimity if she disapproves or says anything derogatory."
"You mean you won't hex her the way you did Malcolm?" Albus asked with a smirk.
Minerva groaned. "I do wish he hadn't told you about that. As I said, I don't usually go about doing violence to people – even when they deserve it. I simply was a little . . . overwrought, that's all. And I repaired the damage immediately."
Albus poured their tea, chuckling. "Biscuits? No?" He nodded, tasted his tea, then added some honey to it. "I actually think that Malcolm was rather impressed. He said you were quick with your wand."
"That's only because he was taken unawares. As he should have been. Sisters don't normally go about slicing open their brothers' faces during otherwise civilised conversation."
"No, I don't suppose they do. Never having had a sister, I can't speak from experience, of course, although I do believe that brothers tend to provoke each other that way more."
Minerva laughed. "Well, my experience with my three brothers wasn't typical, as they are all so much older than I am, but believe me, they have provoked me a lot. And I, them, probably. Though we don't normally draw wands on each other." She grinned. "Of course, being the baby probably provided me some protection! And they were older and better able to control themselves when I was at my most annoying."
"Annoying?" Albus laughed. "I cannot imagine that at all."
"Oh, you remember how I was when I was a student – too serious by half, thinking I understood more than I did simply because I happened to read a lot, always wanting to grow up faster, catch up with my brothers – I very nearly squandered my childhood, I think, in spending all of it wishing I were grown up!" Minerva smiled to herself. "I am sure I annoyed them all a lot. Malcolm, in particular. I think it quite hurt him that I . . . put on airs and stopped wanting to listen to his stories, and scoffing at them when I did. I outgrew the scoffing phase . . . more or less. But I still think I could be rather obnoxious at times. Not usually, and not intentionally, obviously, but . . . we all go through unattractive phases, I suppose."
Albus laughed. "Yes, I suppose we do – and some people never outgrow them! Your 'phases,' brief as I am certain they were, were passing and a part of childhood. And I never found you obnoxious or annoying. Amusing, occasionally, but never annoying."
"I think that's your nature, Albus, to find amusing what others find irritating. I try, but I'm afraid that is one of your traits that I find difficult to emulate," Minerva said with a laugh.
The two drank their tea, chatting, and soon the tea was finished and both were stifling their yawns. Despite their desire to stay up and talk all night, they both decided to be sensible and go up to bed so that they could have their walk and picnic the next morning.
Minerva went over to the dresser and pulled out her nightgown as Albus took something from his carpet bag then went over and got into bed. After she had put the nightgown on, she turned to see that Albus had conjured some kind of bolster and was sitting up in bed, reading. She smiled to see him there, her copy of Through the Looking-Glass in his hands, his half-glasses perched on his nose, as he turned the pages and found where he had left off reading a few nights before.
She went and retrieved a book from her own carpet bag and joined him in bed. The night stand had a small lamp on it, and she turned it up to see to read. Minerva looked over at Albus.
"Can you see all right, Albus?"
"Fine, my dear. The corner wall lamp is providing sufficient light," Albus answered.
Minerva nodded, put on her glasses, and found her place in her own book. She was slightly chilly, but she had left her shawl downstairs. She waved her wand and opened the door then Summoned the soft wool shawl. After placing it around her shoulders, she turned to her book.
"Chilly?" Albus asked.
"Slightly. I'm fine now."
"I could cast a Warming Charm," he offered.
"As could I. I'm fine, Albus."
She turned a page. Albus chuckled beside her, evidently amused by something in his book. Her book was not as amusing and it wasn't capturing her attention that night. After Albus chuckled again, she partially closed her book and looked over at him.
"You're enjoying it?" she asked.
"Hmm?" Albus looked at her over his glasses. "Oh, yes, quite. Thank you for loaning it to me."
Minerva watched him read for a moment. Watching him read was more interesting than her own book. She sighed and turned back to her novel. Halfway through a paragraph, she decided she wasn't in the mood that night, closed it, and set it on the bedside table with her glasses, then she Levitated her shawl over to the rocking chair and draped it across the back.
"Do you mind if I turn out this light?" she asked. "Can you still see well enough?"
"That's fine, Minerva." He glanced over at her as she plumped her pillows. "Tired? I don't mind putting my book down for the night."
"My book just didn't hold my attention and I don't feel like finding something else. By the time I did, I would be ready to sleep, anyway."
"This is quite amusing, my dear." He smiled at her. "I could read it to you."
Minerva smiled. "That would be nice, but not tonight, I think."
Albus closed his book. "I had come to the end of a chapter, anyway, and it's best in small doses, I think."
He set his book on the bench and set his glasses beside them. He sat up straighter and banished the bolster behind him, then he began to plump his pillows.
He flipped them over, then he said, "What's this?"
He reached under the bottom pillow and pulled out something white. Albus looked at them and began to laugh. Minerva grinned. She had hoped she wouldn't have fallen asleep before he found them.
"So, you're idea of a joke, Professor McGonagall?" Albus asked, holding them up and looking over at her.
"Oh, not at all," Minerva said quite seriously. "You told me once that under your pillow seemed a safe place for my knickers, so when I removed them earlier, I thought that the best place for them."
Albus laughed, then he winked at her and tucked them under his pillow. "Somewhat extraneous when I have you here beside me, though." He leaned over and kissed her forehead. He smiled down at her, seeming to memorise her face. "I love you, Minerva."
"I love you, too, Albus," Minerva replied, her heart seeming to expand in her chest. She reached up and caressed his face. "I love you more than I can say."
Albus leaned forward and kissed her lips gently. "Sweet dreams, my darling Minerva," he whispered, then waved his hand, extinguishing all the lights.
"Good night, Albus."
Fifteen minutes later, Minerva sat up in bed. "Albus," she said softly.
"Mmmmmm." Albus was more asleep than awake.
"Do you mind if I open the window on this side of the bed?" She slept with the windows open during all but the coldest months, using charms to keep out the worst of the wind and rain when necessary, and she was used to having a cool breeze blow over her as she slept. "Just a little."
"Mmmmmm," was Albus's reply.
Minerva looked at his shadowy form. She didn't know whether the light filtering charms would work if she opened the window, but she didn't want to wake him to ask. She lay back down, and Albus turned and put an arm around her. Now, that was nice. She could sleep like that. Minerva closed her eyes and relaxed, feeling Albus's solid warmth behind her. She was on the verge of sleep when her eyes popped open again. It was perverse. It truly was.
She turned, and Albus moved in his sleep.
"Albus? Albus? I'm sorry, darling, I hate to wake you," Minerva said softly.
"Mmm, Minerva. Something wrong?" Albus asked sleepily.
"I just don't think I can sleep tonight without the window a little open."
He let out a slight sigh. "That's fine. I'll do it."
"I have my wand, I can."
"I need to recast the charm, or we'll wake at dawn." Albus Summoned his wand, opened the window on Minerva's side of the bed a crack, then cast the charm again. "Is that all right, my dear?"
"Perfect. Thank you." Minerva leaned forward and kissed him. "I'm sorry I woke you."
"It's all right," Albus said, giving her a peck on the cheek then setting his wand on the bench beside the bed. "Good night."
"Good night."
Minerva began to drift asleep. Just as she was almost completely there, she felt Albus sit up. She blinked her eyes open.
"Is everything all right, Albus?"
"Mmm, fine, my dear. I just can't sleep with the draught on my head." He reached for his wand. "But that's easily fixed."
Minerva felt a tingle of magic as he cast a spell.
"I'm sorry, Albus."
"Don't even think about it – I'm fine. I sometimes like the window open, myself." When it's a good deal warmer, he added in his thoughts.
Minerva rolled over and put her arms around Albus. "I love you, Albus."
"I love you, too, my darling Minerva." And if she wanted to sleep with the windows open in the middle of January, why, he'd just use a stronger charm. Or wear a hat to bed. Albus took her hand, kissed it, then held it to his chest as he drifted back to sleep, happier than he had ever been in his long life.
The next morning, Minerva woke as the morning light gently filtered through the western windows. She sighed and rolled over, but Albus wasn't there, and his side of the bed was cool. She got up, shivering, and closed the window, then she pulled on her dressing gown and shucked on her slippers. She walked over and tapped on the partially closed door to the bathroom. When there was no response, she went in and made use of the facilities.
As she was splashing her face with cold water, she heard Albus in the other room.
"Minerva?"
"I'm in here. Be right out," she called unnecessarily. It's not as though she would have left through the window, she thought with a grin.
She came out into the bedroom and smiled to see Albus there, still in his nightshirt, but with a wooly dressing gown and fuzzy slippers on, a large tray floating in front of him.
"You woke before I could come back. I thought surely I had started early enough this morning that you would still be in bed when I returned," Albus complained mildly.
"I'm sorry, Albus," Minerva said. "Breakfast looks lovely!"
Albus smiled and settled the tray on the end of the bed. "Since you are up, it might be more comfortable to eat at a table."
He pulled his wand from his pocket and waved it, conjuring a small round table. Two more swishes, and there were two comfortable-looking chairs.
"And," he said, "I think this would be nicer than a Warming Charm." He pointed his wand at the fireplace, and the logs in it sprang into flame, then he waved it to remove the light filter charms from the windows, and the morning sunlight streamed into the room.
Minerva went over and looked at their breakfast. Boiled eggs, bacon, toast, butter, and some kind of berry preserves – and, of course, a large pot of tea.
"It looks very good, Albus." She waved her wand and began moving the various items from the tray to the table.
"Thank you, my dear. Those eggs are medium, as I noted you like them, and I did more, hard-cooked, for our picnic lunch. I got a start on putting our picnic hamper together, but we can finish that after we dress."
Albus pulled out her chair for her, and she sat.
"Thank you. You must have started early! This is supposed to be your holiday," Minerva said, helping herself to some toast as he poured the tea, adding milk to both their cups.
"I know, but I realise that you are an early riser, and I wanted to serve you breakfast in bed." He smiled over at her. "I enjoy spoiling you a little, Minerva. That makes me feel like I'm on holiday."
A little over an hour later, both of them dressed for their ramble around the island, Albus in a large, wide-brimmed hat, Minerva with her head bare, and a picnic basket floating behind them, the two left the cottage and headed down the same small path he had brought her on the evening before.
"How do you maintain the paths?" Minerva asked as they walked south to their starting point on the seal beach.
"I don't – well, I do, some of them, particularly the ones on the hills that tend to get somewhat washed out or have debris fall on them. But essentially, the deer keep them up for me. We just use the same paths. There are a few that they don't use, but very few, actually."
They reached the beach, and Minerva insisted on stopping and casting a green "X" on a large flat rock, so that they would know precisely where they had begun walking.
Albus smiled and humoured her, but then he said, "Are you sure that's an 'x,' my dear?"
"Of course it's an 'x'!" It was a perfect, symmetrical cross to mark their spot.
"I suppose it depends on what direction you are looking at it from," Albus said.
"Mm, I suppose," Minerva replied impatiently.
"I don't know . . . what do you think, Minerva?"
Minerva turned back, her mouth open, ready to tell him to stop blathering about her mark so they could start their walk, but the words didn't emerge. She saw the rock. The silly wizard. The dear, silly wizard. She chuckled.
"Well, I suppose one could look at it like that," she said. She walked up to him, put her arms around him and looked up into his eyes. "You are the silliest, most adorable wizard in the world." She kissed his lips, then looked down at the rock again.
Instead of an "X," it now read, "Albus + Minerva," and was surrounded by a giant red heart-shape.
"I would like to be able to shout it to the world, Minerva," Albus murmured in her ear, nuzzling her, "but since I can't . . ."
Minerva slipped her arms down and took his hands. She nodded, smiling up at him. "Let's go take our walk, then."
They started off, Minerva glad of her stout short boots, though they became somewhat warm, and she had to cast a cooling spell on them. Albus's boots apparently had some kind of automatic charm to keep his feet just the right temperature regardless of the weather or his exertion, which Minerva thought would be quite handy.
Two hours later, they weren't even half-way to their goal as they climbed up and down, occasionally having to look for a detour around some particularly jagged rocks or an impossibly steep slope. Minerva had had to shorten her robes to clamber over some of the rougher terrain, but she was determined to do the walk with no magical assistance, though she did comment to Albus that she didn't think it would be cheating if she were to transform into her Animagus form for some especially difficult and narrow way.
"I'd still be walking, not Apparating," she said as they stopped for a breather and to look out over the ocean, watching the birds diving for fish.
"And does that mean that I could Transfigure, as well?" Albus asked with a grin.
"That's different. That would be cheating. You could fly all around the island with no more effort than it takes to fly anywhere else. Beside, I did say 'circumambulate,' not, not whatever flying would be," Minerva said.
"Yes, my dear," Albus answered, not arguing with her logic.
"But I think I'd prefer to do it all in my ordinary form, anyway. I can do a little exploring in my Animagus form some other time," Minerva said, deciding that it wouldn't be precisely fair to Albus if she were to have an easier time by going on ahead in her Tabby-form.
"If you do decide to, be sure to tell me. Most of the animals on the island wouldn't bother you, but some of the predator birds might mistake you for their next meal. And there are a few others you might not care to run into. I'd like to be aware, just in case."
Minerva agreed, and they continued on their way, stopping occasionally to look at the view, Albus's arms around Minerva, or to examine a plant or unusual rock. Finally, Minerva decided that they were at least at the half-way point, and there was a nice flat rock, warmed by the sun, where they could sit and make their picnic, the scent of the sea and juniper nearby, blending sweetly.
After they had eaten their simple picnic lunch of hard-cooked eggs, cheese and mixed pickle sandwiches on crusty bread, and fresh tomatoes, washed down with cold lemonade, Minerva stood and brushed herself off, then began returning things to the hamper.
Albus looked up at her, watching as she packed up.
"I can't fold the blanket while you're still lying on it, Albus."
"So we aren't having a rest?"
"We just did," Minerva replied. She paused. Perhaps he needed a rest. He was more than eighty years older than she, after all, she reminded herself, even if he did act like a little boy sometimes. And make love like a young man. "Of course, if you're tired – "
"No, no, not tired," he said, standing, "just not as determined as you are, I suppose." He grinned at her. "You really have taken this on as a mission, haven't you?"
"Well, not a mission . . . but it's good to have a goal and head towards it. And to complete what one begins."
"Yes, but one should also enjoy the journey there," Albus replied. "Otherwise . . . why take time making love? Why not just do it fast, get it over with?"
Minerva laughed. "I do see your point, Albus. But I am enjoying this. I like the exertion. And we do stop and look at the view. Although the best part of that is having your arms around me, holding me securely." Minerva emphasised that point by putting her arms around him and kissing him. "But I would like to finish this walk today, and it's taking longer than I thought it would."
They had left the cottage at almost eight-thirty, and it was four-thirty before the rounded the large boulders that marked the beginning of small cove where the seals played and the sand was soft. Albus let Minerva go on ahead. He sat down on a rock, watching her make a bee-line for the rock they had marked that morning. He took of his boots and his socks, putting his socks inside the boots, then lining them up carefully on the rock. Albus stood and waved back at Minerva when she reached the rock, touched it, then turned back and waved energetically at him. She beckoned to him and he started across the sand to her, enjoying the feeling of the warm grains between his toes. As he walked, he began to undo the buttons on the front of his robes.
Minerva met him partway and said, "Come on, Albus! Finish the walk!"
Albus reached for her and drew her closer. He looked down into her eyes, smiling. "In a bit, my love. We have time." He kissed her softly.
Minerva responded to his kiss, then she broke off and said, "It's just a few more yards, come on, Albus!"
"Not yet," he replied. He began to unbutton his robes again. "Let's enjoy the sand and the water."
Minerva looked out. "It must be cold."
Albus chuckled. "When you first get in, yes."
"I haven't a bathing costume." She looked down at her robes. "I could Transfigure my robes, I suppose."
Albus laughed. "Why?" He unbuttoned the last button then dropped his robes onto the sand.
Minerva reached out and touched him caressingly.
"Mmm. Later, my dear," Albus said, taking her hand and kissing it. "Now undress! Or do you need help?"
Minerva raised an eyebrow. She hadn't been swimming in the nude since she was about ten. She shrugged off her loose over-robe then turned around. "You could take care of the hooks in back," she said, deciding that perhaps Albus had a good idea, after all. She grinned to herself as he touched the Charmed hooks on the back of her robes, releasing them. Anything to be naked together with Albus.
Minerva took her robes and Albus's and Levitated them over to the rock where he had left his shoes and the picnic basket. She took his hand and led him over to another rock, where she sat and removed her own shoes and stockings.
"I guess I could go in like this," she said, standing. She was still wearing a hip-length chemise and her knickers.
Albus smiled sceptically, his eyebrows raised. "If you wish. But it is just the two of us – and a few seals and porpoises. I doubt they will care."
Minerva took out her hairpins, dropping them into one of her boots. She ran her fingers through her hair. "I suppose this will be better for swimming." She looked out at the water again. "It does look cold. And you're certain there are no unusual currents or whirlpools?"
"None in this cove. It's one of the best places on the island for swimming, and although it is cold, it's still not too cold to go in. If you don't want to join me, though, you don't have to," he said, beginning to walk backwards away from her and toward the water.
"I'll join you for a little while," Minerva said.
She began to unbutton her chemise, noting that Albus immediately stopped to watch her. After putting her chemise on the rock with the rest of their clothes, she pulled off her knickers. Minerva smiled him.
"Are you sure you want to go swimming?" she asked as she walked towards him.
"Perhaps that can wait." He reached for her, pulled her close, and kissed her.
It was sometime later that he finally stood from the sand, brushed himself off, and offered Minerva his hand, helping her up. He kissed her, then pulled her toward the water. "Come on, Minerva, let's go swimming!" He let go and stepped back away from her, smiling.
Albus ran lightly across the sand, and Minerva admired his long legs and the way his hair flew out behind him in the breeze. He was gorgeous. He splashed into the water with a shout, then when it was up to his waist, he began to swim, remaining parallel with the edge of the beach. He paused, rolled over onto his back, then called out to Minerva.
"Come in, Minerva! Join me!"
Minerva laughed and ran toward the water, ready to join her lover in the sea.