Chapter 11: An apology [1952, Autumn]

Minerva had been with Hogwarts for a year. Professionally, she was doing an amazing job. She juggled her teaching and Head of House duties expertly and impressed both colleagues and students alike. The Hogwarts' staff were so fed-up with Albus' hectic schedule that they threw a mini-celebration in her honour when she first came on board. But she never minded his schedule. She stepped in willingly for him as and when he needed help, even for Headmaster duties which nearly all the staff shunned, without as much as a sigh. But beyond work, Albus found that she had nothing to talk to him about.

Albus was disturbed because he did not know whether Minerva was doing well in other aspects of her life. If he went further and looked deeper into his heart, he knew that perhaps, what bothered him the most was not about her, but about himself. He could no longer read her like an open book as he used to be able to when she was his student. She remained pleasant, polite and friendly towards him, but much more reserved.

It seemed that they had switched roles. Albus used to be the one who was always brooding in his office while Minerva reached out to him. But now, he had boundless energy and was always coming up with new ideas about this and that while she withered away quietly, preferring to retreat to her office if no additional socialising was required. She did not seem to have enough will nor energy to participate in anything beyond work; a far cry from when she was training for Quidditch matches, to become an Animagus, or strategising for Dumbledores' Army in the past. A sudden thought struck him – that she resembled her old friend Merope Gaunt sometimes, these days.

It was the Halloween Feast that night and as usual, Minerva did not turn up. Albus decided that it was time for him to speak to her, before she closed up any further.

xxxxx

"Would you like some tea?" Minerva asked, as she laid a plate of ginger newts and sherbet lemons in front of him.

"That would be nice," he agreed.

As he watched her fetch the tea, something came over him and he suddenly blurted out what he wanted to know the most about her since she started working with him.

"Are you happy, Minerva?"

"I'm happy at Hogwarts. I enjoy teaching very much and the colleagues here are very nice. I am grateful for the opportunity which you have given me," Minerva smiled as she set the teapot down and sat on the couch opposite him. "Why do you ask?"

"Well... you seem... more distant than you were in the past," Albus said, looking down at his lap and shifting uneasily in his seat.

"Well," she shrugged, "I am no longer a child. I can't keep running to you for every single thing, big or small. Or do you still think of me as a child, Professor?" Minerva looked at him straight in the eye.

Albus averted his gaze and took a deep breath before turning to face her.

"I'm sorry, Minerva. I shouldn't have said what I'd said on the night of your graduation. I was not thinking clearly. The fact that you had questioned my rationality got to me. As you know, I'm not used to being judged," he gushed in one breath, finally getting out the words which had stuck with him ever since their angry parting.

Even though Albus prided himself on the fact that his head was not inflated like a balloon despite his many feats and achievements, there was still that matter of pride, and he was not used to admitting his faults. It was probably the main reason why he and Aberforth had not further reconciled after they had worked together against Grindelwald's Army.

They sat for a long while after, drinking their tea, neither speaking.

"Would you like a game of chess, Albus?" she finally broke the silence and gave him a smile. It was the warm and familiar one, the one which was 'specially kept for him', as Augusta used to tease. "Elphinstone sent me a nice set last week."

"I'd love to," Albus smiled as well, knowing that the worst between them was over. And as they chatted over the game throughout the night, they found that the words came back and they were comfortable around each other, just like the old times.