A/N Thanks again Maria.

Kind of short I know, but at least the wait between them isn't long. The next one should be quite a bit longer.

"Albus."

"Albus?"

"Albus!"

Given the frequency with which it happened, Albus would have thought that his body would by now have started to adjust to being woken from a deep sleep. Such was not to be. Each time there were those moments of disorientation. Reaching for his spectacles, he tried to find his bearings and the source of the voice that he would recognize no matter how deep his slumber.

Standing in the doorway, illuminated from behind, Minerva looked to him a vision in her plain white high-necked nightdress. A vision that he shouldn't be having.

"Minerva, we can't-"

He let off abruptly as he realized though she wore no dressing gown her expression was hardly amorous. She was trembling. Loathe though he was to admit it, he doubted it was in anticipation of him. He suspected the cause to be another of the nightmares that had on occasion plagued her since the attack.

"Come and sit with me for a bit."

"Of course." He answered, but she had already turned to head toward a room not so suggestively furnished.

Summoning his dressing gown, he followed. He draped the gown around her shoulders and relit the dying embers in the grate before taking the seat beside her. He offered neither refreshments nor the diversion of a table game, knowing that if she wanted them she knew where in his office to find them. He waited, allowing her to be the first to break the silence.

Between long, comfortable pauses they spoke of the school, its students, and classes, of the Order and the Ministry, of events current and past – in short of anything but the attack.

It was in one of those long pauses that she finally spoke of what was troubling her.

"I am worried and I am frightened."

"About Voldemort?"

Her eyelids shuttered for a moment at the name, but she went on speaking. "And you."

He offered no response other than the confusion evident on his face.

"I've done something, Albus. I've done something that I'm not sure you will be able to forgive me for."

He didn't ask what it was. He thought it quite obvious. When Albus had approached Kettleburn a few weeks ago about his plans to take Minerva off the castle grounds, he had discovered that Minerva had postponed her plans with the Care of Magical Creatures professor. Clearly, she had rescheduled. "Oh Minerva, there is nothing to forgive and besides there is nothing that I couldn't forgive you."

It was his own fault. He had driven her to it. It wouldn't last – this thing with Kettleburn. Minerva had more sense than that. Any dalliance she might have with Kettleburn was just that - a passing fancy. Soon enough, if she hadn't already, she would realize how completely beneath her he was.

Looking into the fire, she spoke so softly and unsure. "I do hope you are right."

Putting a finger under her chin, he turned her toward him. In spite of his earlier resolve, he found himself leaning forward, wanting to show her his forgiveness.

Ducking her head, she momentarily allowed his lips to fall chastely on her brow before resting her head on his chest.