A/N: Helllooooooo. Long-time no see people! How are we all? I am sorry for the delay in this chapter, I got sick, then I wrote part of it, then got caught up in job interviews (not successful by the way – boo) then Spin got terribly sick (not my fault by the way, no matter what she says) so between us we've only really had the time to do it now, and Spin has been stellar, staying up til her 2am to do this, so make sure you all show her some love in your reviews!
Anyway. Um, nothing really to say other than we're moving through it, slowly though…I have to get back into this after my little impromptu holiday after Wilful finished, but I've been writing my novel, so it's not all bad. I'm afraid that while you might glimpse light at the end of the tunnel I'm not sure we're there yet. Stick with me though ;)
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After leaving the hospital wing in a maelstrom of overwhelming emotions, Albus had taken up residence in the dingy Hogs Head pub located in the slightly dodgier end of Hogsmeade. He wasn't sure how long he'd been there, but his disguise had been good, and no-one had bothered him yet.
He felt a heavy hand on his shoulder but he bucked it off, mumbling something into his million and something'th glass of Fire Whiskey.
"You need to come with me, sir," the barman said, grabbing his elbow and directing him into a back room. Albus blinked blearily as the candles lit automatically and he groaned as he was pushed unceremoniously into a chair, and a bucket of water was thrown over his head.
"MERLINS BALLS, ABE!" he spluttered, looking up at Aberforth. "What are you trying to do, drown me?"
"Albus, you have been sitting at my bar for three days, drinking no less. Something you, brother," he spat a little spitefully, "do not do."
"Oh, is that right? And what in Merlin's name has it got to do with you?" Albus said, standing up in a flurry of robes. "You have no clue; you don't know what I'm going through!"
"Oh, poor Albus, again," Aberforth said with a sneer. "What happened this time brother, lose at chess?"
Something inside Albus snapped and before he knew it, his brother had gone flying across the room and into the wall.
"I LOST MY CHILD!"
There was silence as Albus realised what he had done, and Aberforth took in the information.
"Abe, I, I'm sorry, I lost control." Albus knew from the look on Aberforth's face that nothing he could say would make up for the fact he had lost control – again. He glanced up at the portrait in his brother's back room, catching the eye of the beautiful young girl in the painting, and he wept for all that he'd ever lost.
He didn't hear his brother get to his feet, but he felt the hand on his shoulder, the only comfort his brother could give him at a time such as this.
"What happened?"
"I," he looked up at his younger brother, smiling faintly as Aberforth simply waited for him to start talking. "I did not know she was," he swallowed as he tried to force the words from his mouth, "with child. And then, she, there was so much blood and I froze, like I –" Albus glanced up at the portrait of their sister, who simply sat listening to the story. "I couldn't save my, our baby."
"Who?"
"Minerva," Albus whispered, his head in his hands. He heard a chuckle from beside him and he looked up incredulously to find his brother smiling.
"Finally got it together, did you?"
Albus sighed tiredly. "And now I can never go back, we can never go back."
"When did all this happen?"
"Saturday," Albus said quietly, missing the look of confusion on his brother's face.
"When Saturday, the one just gone? Halloween?"
Albus shrugged and nodded, his eyes wide as his brother's fist came flying towards his face.
"ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?"
Albus was quite sure he'd never been more confused in his whole life as his nose seemed to implode on his face in a torrent of pain and blood.
"OW! What was that for?"
"She is up there, in that castle dealing with it all on her own and YOU should be there by her side."
"But, she won't want to see me, it's my fault. It's always my fault, I can't –"
Albus forgot what he was going to say as Aberforth smacked him around the head.
"When are you going to learn, brother, that not everything is about you?" he said snidely. "You are going through something that is terrible, but that woman whom you profess to love –"
"I do love her."
"– is up there right now dealing with losing her child, the child she created with you out of your so called 'love', and where are you? Drinking, like the coward you are." Albus paled as Aberforth spat at his feet. "I have never been more disappointed in you as a brother," he paused before opening the door and returning to his bar, "as a man."
"He is right," Albus said, leaning against the wall where he had fallen. "I am a failure." He looked up at the portrait. "He was always so good to you my dear, and I know that I am to blame for your death, but I miss you, every day."
Ariana simply looked at him quietly, as she always did, and he could feel the disappointment in her eyes as he sat with his head in his hands. He looked up as a sound piqued his curiosity to see Ariana's portrait opening to reveal a tunnel.
"Thank you, my dear," he said touching her frame reverently. "I hope one day I can make you proud of me again, and make up for all the hurt I have caused you," he turned to look at the closed door, "and our brother."
His sister gave him a small smile before leaving the portrait and letting Albus enter the tunnel. He knew where it led, Aberforth had hinted at it before, and he also knew that there would have to be a change in his life, a monumental change. One that would make him into something he could be proud of; something his family could be proud of - as long as he still had a family, of course.
He exited the Room of Requirement looking around self-consciously as he noticed for the first time the robes which he was wearing. There was no way he could return to Minerva looking and smelling as he did, so he quickly made his way to his quarters, making sure that he looked more presentable while downing a pain potion for his nose.
When he arrived outside Minerva's door he was quite sure he'd never been so nervous in all his life. He stood staring at the flowers in his hands, flowers that, at the time, seemed like a good idea.
"Are you going to enter Headmaster, or should I come back later?"
Albus looked up as Godric stood leaning on his sword, head tilted as he evaluated the Headmaster.
"I, um –"
Godric sighed as opened the portrait. "I suggest you work out what it is you want to say before you see her," he called as Albus walked forward almost robotically.
Albus wasn't even sure what day it was when he lifted his hand to knock on her bedroom door. His insides were churning as her beautiful voice called out to him, and he waited, as he was bade until she opened the door.
"Poppy, I am quite –" Minerva's words died as she met Albus' eyes, a frown creeping across her face as he pushed the flowers towards her.
"Minerva, I have, I mean, I just want to –"
He fell silent, his heart nearly beating out of his chest as he tried to sum up the courage to say what it was he needed to say.
"Albus, I,"
Albus frowned as he tried to make himself say something, anything, instead of looking like the fool he was at her door. He heard rather than saw her moving away and he moved like lightning to grab her hand.
"Min, I'm so sorry, I, I don't know, I am a coward and a fool, and I am so sorry," he said, pleading with her to forgive him, to take him back, anything but send him away. "I, there was a time when I thought myself strong, when I thought that to be strong meant to do what you thought was right, no matter the cost. And that got my sister killed. From then on I thought to be strong was to deny the love I have, have always had, for you in my heart."
He took a chance and glanced at her face, his heart breaking a little more as he saw the tears in her eyes. He found his courage, taking her other hand carefully in his as he stepped closer.
"And at the time you needed me most I fled like a coward, like a fool, and left you alone when I should have been with you, helping you. I know that I don't deserve it, and I know that I can never make it up to you, but Minerva, I love you, I have always loved you and if," he frowned and got to his knees, "if you hold but one speck of love in your heart please, please forgive me. I promise you I will not fail again."
Nothing was said as Minerva looked down at his face, neither moving as her eyes searched his eyes.
"Get up, Albus," she said quietly, letting go of his hands. "Come and sit down and I will mend your nose."
Utterly confused Albus followed her directions, taking the offered seat and looking up at her.
"Hold still," she said calmly, cupping his chin and tilting his head back.
Tears gathered in his eyes as he felt his already crooked nose reform its shape, but the tears refused to stop coming as her thumb stroked his jaw a little, almost as if it was moving of its own accord.
"You should have been here," she whispered, barely audibly as her arm dropped to her side. "I, we lost -" she sighed. "You should have been there."
Minerva didn't cry. Albus wasn't sure why, but as he looked up into her eyes, he was sure it was because she had no more tears to shed. He carefully and slowly reached out to her, his hand pausing before it reached her body, but then gently running from her hip up to her ribs and over her stomach, where his child used to be.
"I am so sorry Minerva, I'm so, so sorry," he wept, bringing her closer and leaning his forehead against her belly. "I didn't know what to do, I couldn't help, I –" He kissed the body under his lips. "I froze, as I always seem to do when something important is before me. Why can I not look after my family, when I can do anything for anyone else? Why am I burdened by that curse?" he cried, wrapping his arms around her.
He heard no words of comfort nor assurances, but he felt, ever so gently, the pressure of her fingers combing through his hair and he knew that it might take them many months to get back to where they needed to be, but he would do it, he would prove to her that he loved her unconditionally, and without measure.
-0-
"Màthair?"
Minerva jumped away from Albus, uncharacteristically fiddling with the tie on her robe as she turned to face her son.
"Harry, darling, are you all right?" she said quickly, watching his face as he realised they were not alone.
"Oh, you're here," he said sullenly, glaring at Albus.
Minerva frowned and moved to her son, running her hand through his hair.
"Sweetheart, don't," she whispered, kissing the scar on his forehead. "It's okay."
"What do you mean, it's okay? It's not okay, he wasn't here!" he said, pulling back from Minerva's arms. "Where were you?" he said looking accusingly at Albus.
"I –"
"You weren't anywhere, were you?" Harry demanded, making Albus' face twitch as he got to the truth of the matter. "She needed you! She needed you to be here and she was hurting, she doesn't think I knew, but I could feel it." Harry slapped his hand over the scar on his chest, making both Minerva and Albus jump a little at the ferocity of his feelings.
"Harry, it's all right –"
"NO! No it's not, he wasn't here for you! I was, but he wasn't. But I'm not enough," he screamed, before leaving a stunned Minerva and Albus alone with a slam of the door.
"Min, I, I'm so sorry."
"No, Albus, I meant what I said, I haven't forgotten it, but I will forgive you." She cupped his cheek and leaned up to press a kiss to his temple. "Don't ever do that to me again because I love you Albus, I do, completely and utterly, but I, there are things you shouldn't have to do on your own, and this," she looked him straight in the eyes, "this was one of them."
He nodded, and Minerva could tell he was trying hard not to cry.
"It's all right, I am all right, and I know we lost something precious, but you are here now, and I feel stronger knowing that you will be here for me, again," she said, waiting for him to nod. "I am going back to teaching tomorrow."
"Minerva, you can't be serious! You nearly died, I, you can't –"
Minerva held up her hand, stalling any further words from him.
"I can and I will. If I stay here any longer I will go mad, and I do not feel too bad, a little sore perhaps, but Poppy said that it will abate as I move about more." She stared imploringly into Albus eyes, willing him to understand that she needed to get on with her life again, and he sighed, but with a nod.
"Thank you," she breathed, leaning against his solid form. "I need to go to Harry, but I just, I wanted to get this cleared up first. Please don't ever do that to me again, you need to talk to me, trust me with your feelings and your thoughts." She looked up at him, capturing his gaze once more. "Please."
"I will, I promise," he said quietly, but with conviction in his eyes.
"I love you Albus, I have loved you for as long as I can remember, but if you ever do that to me again, I, I will not be able to cope and my life will be better without you."
"I understand," he whispered, kissing her gently, then a little deeper when she moaned softly, leaning up and wrapping her arms around his neck. "I love you Minerva. I, I am sorry."
Minerva nodded, and released him, smiling as his hands lingered on her waist.
"I have to find Harry," she said apologetically. "He has been amazing this weekend, really."
"Have dinner with me? Or supper, at least?"
She nodded, kissing him once more before leaving to find her son. She struggled a little as she walked through the corridors. People stopped her and asked after her health, and her heart squeezed painfully in her chest when she smiled and waved off their concerns. She was feeling much better, it was true, but she knew that she was perhaps not quite up to teaching tomorrow. However, if she stayed in her rooms on her own for any longer she was quite sure she would never recover from the thoughts running through her head.
Shaking away those very same thoughts now, she concentrated on her bond with Harry, smiling when she realised where her boy was. She strode forward with purpose, smirking a little as the students parted before her, happy that her reputation had not been damaged by the illusion that she had been unwell. She walked up to the Owlery, smiling as she saw Harry perched on a bench against the wall, Hedwig on his knee and nibbling his ear.
"Mo mhac [My son]? May I sit?" Harry nodded, but didn't look up, making Minerva sigh. She was sure she was doing the right thing by not telling him what had happened, but he had enough to worry about. "Hello Hedwig," she said with a smile as Hedwig nuzzled her hand.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly, "I, he…"
Minerva sighed as Harry trailed off; it was quite obvious he wasn't sorry, and Minerva couldn't really blame him for that. She was quite sure she should have made Albus work a little harder for his forgiveness, but she had lived and worked with him for so long she knew him better than he knew himself, and while it had hurt they would work on it, and hopefully he could overcome his belief that he was not good enough for happiness.
She heard Harry shuffle awkwardly, and knew she'd got lost in her thoughts again, so smiling she wrapped her arm around him and sat with her head resting atop his.
"You have been amazing for the last few days, mo mhac," she whispered, kissing his hair. "You and Hermione have made sure I have everything I could possibly need, and kept people away when I didn't want to talk to them, and," she pulled him closer, "and made me feel so loved that I have been able to feel better, even if my body isn't quite as quick as my mind. Thank you my wonderful, darling boy."
"He still should have –"
Minerva stopped him with two fingers on his lips and he looked up at her in confusion.
"Harry, I know that you think that Albus is, well, I know that he seems so powerful, and all knowing, and so," she trailed off, once again consumed by her thoughts, "but he's not you know. He's the same as you and me. He snores at night, he cries like you and I and he is not all knowing. He has had a hard life leanabh [baby]. Just, just trust me, you don't have to forgive him if you cannot, but please, trust that I know what I am doing." She smiled as he wrapped his arms gently around her middle. "Even when sometimes it seems as though I do not know what I'm doing."
"I do trust you, Màthair," Harry whispered, leaning into her as they enjoyed the quiet, listening to the sleepy hoots of the owls above them.
-0-
Harry had never felt safer as he sat in his mother's arms. His worries disappeared for a while, and he knew that right now nothing else mattered. He wasn't happy with Albus, but his Màthair seemed to be all right with it, so he figured that he'd let her handle it for the time being. He was her, well, it was nothing to do with him.
"Do I still have to enter in the Tournament?" Harry asked quietly, breaking the silence.
He felt her still and from the regret he felt through their bond, he knew she had forgotten all about it. He hated that he was partially to blame for her stress, but he wanted to be sure, needed to know whether he could get out of it, and whether his life could go back to normal.
"I confess, I had forgotten sweetheart. But I will talk to Albus about it tonight."
Harry nodded into her chest, but remained quiet. He wanted to tell her how bad it was, how everyone except maybe Hermione and the twins hated him, how they thought he was a cheat and a liar, and how much it hurt, but he simply couldn't find the words.
"Oh sweetheart," she sighed, pressing a long kiss to his forehead. "I'm so sorry. People can be so fickle," she whispered, resting her head against his. "But we'll be all right, we'll get through it, even if I can't persuade Albus to remove you from the Tournament, okay?"
Harry nodded again, but didn't say anything. He felt sick at the thought of competing. After Ron had stopped talking to them, Hermione had stayed for the weekend and they'd spent some time looking through the library, as well as Minerva's own books on the Tournament, and what Harry had seen scared him more than he was willing to let on.
"No matter what happens I promise I will not let anything happen to you," she murmured, as if she could hear his thoughts. Harry smiled, once again forgetting that she could feel everything he could.
"Okay," he said, believing her even though he knew if something happened in the Tournament it would be unlikely she would be able to stop it. "Thanks Màthair."
"Where is Hermione this afternoon? I would have thought she would have been with you?" Minerva said quietly, her fingers sliding through his hair and helping once again to ease his worries.
"She's in the library," he said with a laugh, "except there are people there and," he looked up at her awkwardly, "I didn't want to disturb her."
"Well, perhaps we can go back to my rooms and read. I have a book I think you might like." she said faintly, and Harry noticed the tightness in her voice and the pain he felt through the bond.
"Màthair, you're in pain."
She rolled her eyes, but didn't dispute it. He knew that he was fussing, but he didn't care. He needed her to be all right, and he'd kept her here longer than he should have.
"You should have said something," he said gently, helping her up and putting his arm around her.
"Harry, Harry, listen. I'm fine, just sore and stiff is all." She stopped him in his tracks and tipped his chin so he would meet her eyes. "Tha gu math [I am fine]."
He nodded, and wrapped his arm around her once more, making her sigh.
"Will you ever tell me what happened?" he asked quietly as they walked down the many stairs leading from the Owlery.
She paused and looked at him, seemingly searching his face for something that she evidently didn't find.
"One day, sweetheart. I promise you, but right now, no."
He shrugged and fell silent, lost in his thoughts. Hermione and he had talked almost non-stop over the last few days about what might have happened, and what could have transpired if Professor Snape hadn't been there. After his visit to the hospital wing Minerva had told them quietly about how he had helped her, and while it hadn't helped Harry to get on better with the Potions Master, it had certainly earned him a little respect, something which he didn't apparently share, treating Harry as he always had.
"I, um, I think I'll go and see if Hermione is free," he said softly as they reached Godric's portrait. He couldn't look at Minerva, and he dropped his arm from her as he felt her disappointment. "I just," he looked up at her pleadingly. He felt old enough to know. She was his mother, the only one he'd ever really known, the only one he'd ever loved, and he knew in his heart that she loved him too. He just couldn't understand why she wouldn't tell him.
"I can't, sweetheart, I'm sorry."
He nodded and backed away as she tried to reach for him.
"I'll just, um –"
He ran off, breathing hard as he made it to the library in record time. He found Hermione and took a seat next to her, leaning his head on his hands.
"She didn't tell you?" she asked quietly, closing her book.
"She told me she couldn't, she wouldn't."
"It'll be all right Harry, we'll get through this, I promise."
He nodded but didn't reply. Right now it felt as though his world was coming to an end. He had to go back to being on his own, but now that he knew what it was like not to be on his own, he was quite sure it was worse than before.
"Did you send the letter to Sirius?" she asked quietly as Madam Pince looked on.
"Yeah," he said, thinking of his godfather, "hopefully he won't do anything too stupid when he hears."
Hermione squeezed his knee under the table and passed him a book, pointing out the things she needed him to read. He smiled as she made him work, knowing that she was doing it to keep his mind off other things. Silently he thanked whatever angel was looked out for him for his best friend. She was and always had been there for him, and he promised himself that he would be a better friend to her. Smiling for the first time in what seemed like days, Harry started reading, getting lost in the words as they worked side by side.