Chapter Twenty-Eight:

"But love is blind, and lovers cannot see…"

- The Merchant of Venice

It was another three weeks before she would agree to try Occlumency again. In the meantime, he taught her how to perfect her corporeal Patronus, make her defensive blocking spells stronger, and perform a Revulsion Jinx. When those skills were mastered, he also taught her Peirtotus Locomotor, a spell that would cause seemingly inanimate objects to rise up and protect the caster. They practiced on a suit of armor that Albus had moved into his sitting room, and thought it was not the most practical spell she had learned, Minerva enjoyed practicing it.

Finally, five days before Christmas, Albus decided that they had better discuss what had happened, though she had previously refused to do so, in order to move forward. He waited until after dinner, when they were alone in his chambers preparing to play a game of Wizards Chess.

"We need to keep working on it, Minerva," he said, and she did not need to ask what the 'it' referred to.

"I've told you, I can't," she said quietly, staring down at her lap. She was wearing her new burgundy and navy blue robes, sent by her mother as an early Christmas gift. The attached note had read,

Minerva. I trust you're doing well as I obviously have not heard otherwise. I decided to go on holiday with Mariah, Cormac, and the children. We will be spending the next two weeks in the south of France. You are welcome to join us if you'd like. McKayla has also extended an invitation for you to travel with her family to Greece for ten days. I assume that you will turn down both offers and remain at Hogwarts. That's just as well. I shall tell your sisters that you are too busy with your work and studies to get away at the moment. I hope that's true. I truly hope that you have not abandoned your education, and with it, your future, for something more immediately gratifying. Have a lovely Christmas, dear. Be good. Love, Mother.

Though Minerva found the tone of her mother's letter a bit off-putting, she was thrilled to learn that she was not expected at the home of either sister over break, and equally thrilled that it appeared her mother intended to keep what she knew of their affair a secret.

Minerva found herself lost in thought regarding the robe, the note, and the holiday, but Albus interrupted her reverie by gently taking her hands in his and lifting them up to his lips for a quick kiss.

"I'm going to use Legillimency on you again, Minerva. And this time I will be looking for that memory in particular."

Her deep green eyes widened with surprise, then narrowed with anger. Before she could speak he put a finger to her lips.

"Tell me," he said, "Do you want me to see that particular memory?"

She pulled away from him. "Absolutely not."

"Excellent. Then you will be highly motivated." Though she was furious, she had to admit he had a point. And she knew, sooner or later, it would have to happen. With a sigh, she resigned herself to accept the 'sooner.'

"Very well, Albus."

Without further adieu, he was inside her head, searching. He could tell that she was trying to keep him at bay, but her powers of Occlumency were not yet a match for his powers of Legillemency. Suddenly he could see the Black Heart Inn. He could see Minerva and Riddle on the bed. He could see Riddle sliding his hand up her thigh…

Then, just as suddenly as his infiltration of her thoughts, he was seeing something entirely different. He was seeing an argument over a casket. He was seeing a fist flying in his direction. He was seeing stars, then darkness.

He was seeing the young woman standing in his office, pointing her wand at him and smiling.

"I did it!" she cried, lowering her wand. "I got you out."

"Yes," he agreed, trying to control his breathing. "Yes, you did."

She made her way over to him and slipped her slender arms around his waist. He wrapped his arms around her in response. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest and wondered if she could feel it too.

"I made my way into your head again, didn't I?" she asked. He confirmed with a nod. "What did I see?"

"My sister's funeral," he answered quietly. Aberforth, my younger brother, he was angry with me. We got into a bit of a row. That was the first time my nose got broken."

"Why?" she asked quietly, realizing for the first time how little she knew of his past. He led her by the hand to his couch and she settled comfortably against him.

"It's a very long story. Suffice it to say, another memory I am not particularly proud of. My brother blamed me for the death of our younger sister. I think he still does, actually, though we speak to each other now. We were young and stupid. I was your age, as a matter of fact."

"Are you implying that people my age are stupid?" she asked, but he could tell she was teasing.

"I love you, Minerva," he whispered, landing a kiss to her temple.

She smiled. "Safe answer."

Four nights later, most of the students had gone home for the holiday, and Albus was readying himself for the Annual Staff Party. Dippet had suggested that he bring Minerva along rather than leave her alone, pointing out that she was technically no longer a student and he saw no problem with including her in the festivities. Outwardly, Albus simply thanked the Headmaster and offered to relay the invitation, but inside he was conflicted. Part of him felt more excited about the party than he had felt in years because he knew he would enjoy it far more with her there, but part of him was nervous about his ability to keep their relationship quiet in such close proximity of everyone else, on a night when the merriment, and the Firewhiskey, would surely be flowing freely.

"I won't get drunk," Minerva assured him before returning to her room to get ready. "I won't even get tipsy. No one will know a thing!"

Minerva could hardly hide her excitement as she dressed and fixed her hair that evening. She pulled it up into two long French braids and tied a ribbon in the end of each, then decided that the look was far too young, took it down, and pulled her hair into a bun. She decided that look was far too stuffy, took it down, and decided to wear it more naturally, just pinning it back with a red and gold hairpin that Poppy had given her for Christmas two years prior. Albus told her that most of the staff would be dressed up; some in Muggle attire, others in more traditional robes. Minerva picked out a simple but stylish dark red dress that hugged her figure. It had a thick black belt around the waist, a belt that cinched her in and gave her the appearance of an hourglass figure despite her naturally thin frame and (she thought despairingly) her rather small chest. The bottom of the dress puffed out a little and covered her down to her mid-calf. She knew she looked attractive, and hoped she looked grown up. She applied a little makeup, a gift from Cicely last year, and then she was ready. With a deep breath she exited her chambers and made her way to the staff room, hoping beyond hope that Albus would already be there. They had agreed not to arrive together, which Minerva knew made sense, but she was anxious about it.

"Minerva, dear, how are you!" a voice exclaimed to her right. Minerva turned to see Septima Vector, Arithmancy professor, making her way towards the doorway where the young girl stood. "Do come in! Armando told me you would be joining us for this little soiree, and I couldn't be happier. It's nice not to be the youngest woman in the room for a change!" Septima Vector said with a little laugh. Minerva smiled, instantly feeling more at ease. "From what I've heard from your professor Dumbledore, it won't be long before you're one of us, eh, Minerva?" the Arithmancy teacher continued. Minerva took a moment to look her over, mentally noting that the twenty-something witch was wearing a similarly styled dress in Ravenclaw bronze and blue. "He says you show a talent and brilliance he has not seen in a Transfiguration pupil since his own days of studying here at Hogwarts. I asked what you plan to do with your talent, there's really a lot of demand for Transfiguration masters, you know, and especially for Animagi, and he told me you'd like to have his job someday. Good for you, dear!" Minerva laughed, somewhat surprised by the demeanor of this professor she hardly knew. Minerva had not chosen to take Arithmancy in her third year because the professor at the time was a stuffy, formidable old coot, famous for taking points and assigning detentions for the smallest transgressions, a headache she (and Poppy) were not willing to deal with. Perhaps Minerva would have changed her mind about the class had she known that he would be retiring in her fifth year and replaced by such a charismatic young witch.

"Thank you, Professor Vector," Minerva answered with a smile, but the other woman shook her head vehemently.

"Oh no, Minerva, please, call me Septima. It's my name, you're not a student, and besides, this is a party! Now, let me show you to the refreshments table. We have a little of everything, the House Elves do take such good care of us, but if there's something you want and don't see you only need to ask for it. Ask, and ye shall receive! Alright?"

Minerva smiled comfortably. "Alright!"

For several minutes more Minerva chatted with Septima, who, as it turns out, was a twenty-eight year old mathematics genius, a former Ravenclaw (as suspected), Muggle-born, and divorced with no children. After awhile the pair were joined by Muggle Studies professor Dominique Kessel and Astronomy professor Aloysius Orion, who had his arm around the aforementioned's waist.

Half an hour after Minerva's appearance at the gathering, Albus still hadn't arrived, and though she looked forward to (eventually) seeing him, Minerva surprisingly found that she did not mind being left 'alone.' Rarely in her youth had she given any thought to the private or personal lives of her professors, save for the couple of rare moments when gossip would hit the student body, like the alleged Merrythought-Dippet affair and the time Professor Kettleburn went to his early morning Care of Magical Creatures class clearly nursing a hangover. But this evening, in addition to getting to know Septima, Minerva was learning all sorts of things about the people she saw every day for seven years and rarely really thought about.

"I've asked her to marry me at least eleven times now," Aloysius Orion confided in Minerva with a cheeky grin, nodding towards Dominique Kessel. "She always says no."

"And I will continue saying no, Aloysius, until your wife either leaves you or kicks it," she retorted, eliciting a little gasp from Minerva.

Aloysius chuckled. "Don't worry, Minerva. My wife doesn't feel threatened by Dominique at all. She's an exceptionally talented witch, and we both know she could hex me into next week if I actually tried anything untoward with anyone, ever. But I've known Dom since we were six, and I asked her to marry me for the first time less than a year later, it's all harmless fun." With that, he kissed Dominique on the cheek and excused himself to get more punch.

"I half wish he was serious," Dominique whispered to Minerva and Septima. "Merlin knows no one else is asking!"

"Only because you're too damn picky, Dominique, and you never give anyone a proper chance," chastised Septima with a grin. "I mean, look at you. Sure, you're a little long in the tooth, but you're still a relatively attractive woman!"

"Oh, gee, thanks ever so much Septima! I'll have you know I'm barely a decade older than you are! And I look damn good, if you ask me!" As if to prove her point, Dominique gave a little twirl. She was wearing a black formfitting jacket over a silvery-gray chemise, and a sharp black pencil skirt. Before Septima could respond, another voice joined the conversation.

"I think that you are all looking lovely this evening," said the voice, and Minerva felt her cheeks flush.

"Albus!" called Armando Dippet from across the room, where he had been sampling the desserts with Horace Slughorn and the Pomfreys. "What kept you?"

"The Ministry, unfortunately. But everything is settled now and I am looking forward to a relaxing evening with friends. How have you been fitting in, Minerva?" His twinkling blue eyes met her sparkling green ones and he was overcome with the desire to kiss her right then and there, a desire he surpassed, albeit with difficulty, as he silently reminder to himself to avoid the alcohol.

"Don't worry about your young protégé, Albus," Septima answered for her. "She's fitting in just fine. We are already plotting ways for her to steal your job so that she can become a permanent fixture around here. Not that we love you any less than ever before, darling!"

Albus and Minerva laughed, and Dominique rolled her eyes. "You're ridiculous, Septima."

An hour and a half later, Albus had quite forgotten his personal promise, though he was certainly not the only person in the room doing a little more drinking than usual. Minerva's cheeks were very pink. Horace's face was rather red. Dominique's nose resembled that of Rudolph the reindeer. Even Heckle and Prudence Pomfrey had each consumed a couple of glasses of champagne. That was when Septima noticed the mistletoe.

"It's right above your heads, you know," she pointed out. Albus and Minerva looked up.

"Ah," he said, pushing his glasses up a little. "So it is." He leaned over and placed a very chaste, very platonic, very dull kiss on Minerva's forehead.

"Ohh, Albus, such passion! Such scandal!" Septima teased sarcastically. "I mean, if you go around kissing the girl like that, people might think there's something going on!"

"Uh, well, um, I… excuse me?" he stammered uncharacteristically lost for words, presumably the fault of the liquor, and perhaps in part due to a guilty conscience.

"I'm ribbing you, Albus. Loosen up."

"Yes, Albus," said Minerva, her voice low. She pressed herself close to him just for a moment. "Loosen up."

Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was the holiday atmosphere. Maybe it was the way her hair shimmered in the light when she left it down. Maybe it was the way her dress clung to her curves. Maybe it was just a moment of insanity.

But he loosened up.

He cupped her face with his right hand and slipped his left around her waist. He closed the gap between them, tenderly touching his lips to hers. His mouth barely parted, as did hers. The kiss was brief, and gentle, and yet it ignited a fire in the pit of her stomach that she had never quite felt before. When he pulled back she drew in a sharp breath and stared at him wide eyed.

"Was that better?" he asked quietly. Minerva couldn't answer, but Septima could.

"Much!" she exclaimed, also looking a little breathless.

Dominique agreed. "That was like something out of a movie!" she said, which of course required an explanation for most of the staff. Soon everyone was engaged in chats about Muggle film and whether it was a worthy art form, and no one seemed to remember the kiss Albus and Minerva had shared.

No one, except for Albus and Minerva, of course.

Suddenly, neither of them could wait for the party to end.


A/N: Pencil skirts weren't actually popular until after WWII, so I'm putting them in a little early, but honestly, I like the way they look, and that's what I picture the Muggle Studies teacher wearing to a party, so… Let's just assume that witches are ahead of the fashion curve. lol

A/N 2: So… as you can tell, this is a pretty fluffy chapter. I hope that's okay! I figured they deserve a little fluff every now and again, especially since there's more drama looming just around the corner. Stay tuned! And thanks again for all of your reviews and story alerts! :)