This chapter is dedicated to VictoriaGr. My page breaks haven't been working so I'll have to redo my previous chapters with asterisks in the appropriate places... I couldn't be more frustrated if Harry and Ron burst into my room and started screaming "BOTHER!" whilst bludgeoning me with their little puppet hands.

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It felt as though there was something lying on top of her lungs. Her head was too warm, a deep ache splintering the thoughts she attempted to process. Was this death? True, she had never given it much thought but Minerva had never imagined human sensations would feature after life ended. Opening her eyes proved to be a real struggle, taking up her limited supply of energy. Sunlight streamed through an unfamiliar window, landing on her face. She squinted. That explained why she was too warm, but wasn't it night time? She had been doing something, something of vast importance and indeed something she could no longer remember. The notion that she ought to be somewhere presented itself to Minerva. A woman she could dimly recalled having seen somewhere before moved into her line of sight, a glinting badge on her lapel catching Minerva's eye. Hlr. Margaret Bassett. Margaret who had been upset... upset about Xiomara! Of course- she had taken Alastor on an unauthorised trip to St. Mungo's. Her breathing quickened. Why was it no longer night time and why was Margaret here?

"Don't worry, Miss McGonagall, everything's okay. Drink this potion." Margaret placed a hand underneath Minerva's back, tilting her upwards. The world tilted and her head pounded. A sweet smelling potion was being held before her- dreamless sleep and not an option at the moment. Struggling to work her leaden tongue, Minerva spoke to the young healer.

"What time is it?" It sounded horribly slurred, but her experience with the more inarticulate patients was of use to Margaret. She knew that the best thing was to calm the girl down as soon as possible.

"Eleven a.m. on Sunday morning. You've been out for the count since Friday, and what you were doing here in the first place...." Those amazingly green eyes- never had she seen a pair quite like them, widened in alarm. Perhaps Patient McGonagall feared the repercussions of her escapade. "Don't worry, dear. Professor Dumbledore's been here since one o'clock on Saturday morning and he's barely left your side. In fact, he's there sleeping on that chair- see? I don't think he'd have done that if he was angry." To her distress, the patient only became more agitated.

"Albus! Albus, please don't go. I'm sorry; it wasn't supposed to go so badly." As she cried, Minerva noticed a searing pain making its way up her torso. It didn't matter though, so long as Albus knew. He had to know...

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Albus had just been finishing marking the essays from his third year class when Armando had appeared in his fireplace, his expression grave. It was just after midnight and the headmaster would never appear so suddenly without good cause. His first thought had been of Minerva, but that was ridiculous. She was probably sharing hot chocolate with an unhappy first year, reassuring them and setting the child at ease. Minerva was lovely that way- only she wasn't doing any such thing. His heart had nearly stopped as Armando told him that Minerva and Mr Moody were found in St. Mungo's, and that she had been attacked. It was without thought that he had leapt up and insisted upon leaving, and perhaps it would arouse the suspicions of his friend, but he had needed to see Minerva with his own eyes. Just what had she been thinking? Like a man possessed he had hurtled out of the castle, apparated into London and interrogated a stunned Mr Moody. The boy knew nothing of what had happened to Minerva, and was completely shell shocked. He had allowed him to return to the bedside of Miss Hooch, being able to relate to his distress, and had waited for Minerva to wake up. After almost thirty sleepless hours, he had allowed the young healer to prise his fingers from Minerva's and followed her instructions to rest. Perhaps in this state between sleep and wakefulness he was imagining things, but it sounded as though she was calling him. Albus forced himself to wake, ignoring the way his mistreated muscles complained, and saw that Minerva was being cradled by the healer as she sobbed. In an instant he was by her side. Minerva was awake! It was a miracle. How could he have been so foolish as to keep her in ignorance of the danger she was in?

"I'm here, Minerva. You're safe." Wordlessly Healer Bassett moved her charge into his arms. He scooped her up and propped Minerva up against his chest. Merlin, he had hurt her. She was whimpering. "What hurts? You can tell me?" Minerva shook her head, her tears soaking through the material of his shirt. She accepted the muscle relaxant, and the healer left them in privacy.

"I'm sorry." He stroked her hair, a comforting action that should cause Minerva no pain.

"No, it is I who should apologise, my love. I suspected that you were at risk, but I said nothing in the selfish belief that it would damage our relationship."

"Oh Albus, I knew. It wasn't your fault, it was all mine, but I just wanted Alastor to be able to see Xiomara again. I couldn't stand it that she was alone. And my wand is gone." At this last proclamation she was racked by sobs once more.

"No, darling, here it is." He stretched out his hand and the wand made its way over. Minerva looked at him, incredulous.

"But I couldn't find it anywhere, and then I was searching for it-" Murdoch McGonagall opened the door to the room, looking quite exhausted. Without preamble he sat on the chair recently vacated by Albus, and his only response to their current seating arrangement was a single raised eye brow. Every time he saw them together, Albus noticed more similarities between father and daughter.

"I couldn't believe it when they told me you were awake. Thank Merlin, Minerva. How on earth did you expect me to cope with news of your death? Now that I have expressed a small portion of the colossal worry you have caused me, I may also share my horror; what on earth were you thinking leaving Hogwarts like that? You could have died, Minerva, in fact you very nearly did. Has Albus shared that with you, about how long the medical staff were working to save your life? Five hours. And how on earth did my daughter slip past your supposedly all seeing eyes, hmm? You swore to me that you would take care of her and you have failed to do so. Spectacularly. I had hoped with your being more advanced in years than Minerva, that you might at least prove to be apt at keeping her from harm. Don't even dream the word 'blessing', either of you. That is all I have to say on the matter." As quickly as it had began, the tirade ended and Murdoch produced a copy of the Daily Prophet.

Despite the man being no more than twenty years his senior, Albus felt years' worth of self assurance being stripped away. Minerva looked dazed, and he hoped that what her father had said would not deter her from their relationship. Her hand moved to her neck, and horror masked her delicate features.

"My ring!" Perhaps not the opportune moment for such an exclamation, but it was too late for it to be retracted. Cool, Murdoch folded the paper. He reached into the pocket and produced a familiar chain bearing the engagement ring.

"The healers gave me your possessions." With a flick of his wand, the items were returned to Minerva's hand and he continued reading the paper. She exchanged a glance with Albus. Obviously it was an engagement ring, but how did her father feel about it?

"Dad? Albus proposed to me." She stifled a yawn. Perhaps the sleeping potion was unnecessary after all.

"Yes." There was a rustle as the page turned. Murdoch's monosyllabic answer was probably not quite what she had anticipated.

"Well?"

"I presume you accepted, if that rather magnificent piece of craftsmanship is anything to go by."

"Well, not as such. I haven't said 'no' either." At this Murdoch did look up, clearly intrigued. "Tell him, Albus."

"I proposed to Minerva on New Year, and left the details entirely to her choosing. We'll wait however long it is she needs. If or when we marry I want her to be happy." He was going to continue, but she was sound asleep in his arms. It was alarming that he had come so close to losing Minerva, and Albus didn't know that he could continue life after she had shown him the true meaning of happiness. Absently he combed her hair with his fingers.

"I see." There was no telling what Murdoch McGonagall was thinking. In fact, his thoughts were as difficult to decode as his daughter's, and it had taken a careful study of Minerva's character to become as finely tuned to her feelings as he was.

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"Patient McGonagall has been seriously injured. You can't possibly expect that we'll release her knowing full well she'll be returned to the rigours of a school day." The shrill voice caused Minerva's head to throb. With difficulty she slid down the bed and placed a pillow over her head, which blocked out the blinding light and took the edge from her head ache. Pain prowled inside her skull. Drifting in and out of consciousness, she only heard a little of the conversation. It seemed to revolve around Albus trying to convince the healers that she would be taken care of at Hogwarts, and the other voice she didn't recognise. She was beyond caring about the outcome or anything beyond her next dosage of pain relief potion. After an unknown interval of time had passed, the voices ceased, there was a telltale click of the door closing and the pillow was gently pulled from her grasp. Albus leant over her and placed a cool hand upon her brow. Suddenly it mattered very much that she went back to school and stayed with him. Her vision blurred, and so she missed the warning that flashed across his eyes.

"Albus, I love you and I don't want to stay here anymore. I'll stay in our bed and be perfectly quiet, just don't leave this hospital without me...." He wiped the tears from her face and the rather horrified expression on his face sent a wave of panic through her. "Nothing serious is wrong with me? Is there?" When he shook his head without speaking, Minerva wasn't convinced. The way his mouth gaped suggested that he was trying to speak. "Then why so grave? Darling, what's the matter?" This was scary. Fear washed through the pit of her stomach. Headmaster Dippet appeared at the other side of her bed, his countenance steely. All the world was suspended in time for a brief moment and no coherent thought passed through Minerva's mind, and then when she attempted to inhale a flood of them spilled into being. What had she done? What would it cost Albus? Would anything bad happen now? How could she have been so stupid? Would she lose Albus and could she cope without him? A tiny voice immediately answered no.

"After much persuasion the staff of St. Mungo's have agreed to discharge you, Miss McGonagall. What you have given me cause to believe exists between yourself and Professor Dumbledore... you will both appear in my office immediately. It doesn't bear discussion in somewhere so obscenely public." If she wasn't already horizontal, Minerva was sure that she would have fallen over. There was no way her muscles could have supported her after such an intense shock.

"Armando, I-"

"In my office, Albus." The headmaster waved his wand and she was once again dressed in the robes of Friday night. "The healers left these for you to take." Two small bottles levitated towards Minerva, and instinct took over as she choked down the potions. So deep was her unrest that the immediate lessening of the tightness in her lungs and the way her headache was reduced in intensity were lost upon Minerva. She took the Headmaster's arm and allowed him to pull her upright.

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It had been abysmal, that he had expected Minerva to notice the third occupant of the room when she had spent the previous two hours with a pillow over her head, most likely asleep. Albus Dumbledore prided himself upon being a man with foresight, but regretfully he had taken the 'lightning never strikes twice' line of thought. Lightning had struck twice- he had nearly lost Minerva to darker forces, and now he would lose the love she gave him to propriety. Dazed, she staggered to the official floo exit whilst clinging to Armando's arm. Even though he willed her to with every fibre in his being, she did not look up and meet his eye. Her eyes were fixed upon the lurid linoleum flooring and did not waver as she was steered through the crowds of people. Still firmly ensconced in the grasp of the headmaster, Minerva disappeared in a roar of green flames. His relationship had literally gone up in flames. He laughed- a harsh, unnaturally hollow sound which drew the staring glances from orderlies and outpatients alike. Although it was gaining him some rather undesirable attention, Albus couldn't help but howl until he was doubled over and tears rolled down his cheeks.

A small pressure on his shoulder alerted him to the woman clad in the blue robes of trainee medi-wizardry attempting to get his attention. The uncertain way she bit her lip reminded him strongly of Minerva, however there was no other resemblance between his love and the woman wearing the Trainee Torque badge.

"Excuse me, um, sir... but are you alright?"

"Marvellous, dear." Her lack of experience dealing with actual patients was given the spotlight as his use of sarcasm threw her.

"Right... you look pretty pale. Why not sit down and rest before you leave, hmm?"

"No thank you. I have urgent business." Her face was the picture of consternation as he plucked a handful of floo powder from the flower pot she held and followed Minerva into the fire. Stepping from the hearth and into the headmaster's office, Albus saw that she was sitting with her back to him. Armando looked pained.

"Albus, please sit down." He did so. "Miss McGonagall I trust you are quite well enough for this meeting to commence?" Albus turned to see Minerva give a curt nod, staring resolutely onwards. More than anything he wanted to know what she thought and felt. Did she regret their relationship?

"Headmaster, this was all my doing. I went to Professor Dumbledore and refused to listen to his protestations about beginning a relationship. I tempted him, and so I should be punished." Her almost realistic pretence of calm fled as her voice wavered. "Suspend me, expel me just let Albus keep his job. There's no rule against it. He's a good man." Minerva bowed her head and a curtain of hair obscured her face. What was she thinking of?!? The headmaster looked on in interest.

"Armando, no. Minerva must continue at Hogwarts- anything else would be a crime. I shall tender my resignation immediately, so long as no breath of scandal touches her over this. After your graduation, if it is not too presumptuous of me and should you so wish it we shall continue where we left off." Realistically in those four months she could have found another more suitable candidate for her love. Albus tried to quash the ache in his throat- he had been lucky, but such things like dreams were too wonderful to last when faced with reality. She looked up then, eyes blazing with passion and spilling over with unshed tears.

"Presumptuous? We are engaged to be married. I love you, Albus and I cannot let you resign- you're a natural teacher and it-" Armando interrupted with a cough and Albus' rebuttal died on his lips. Minerva too fell silent.

"As fascinating as this discussion is, neither expulsion nor the termination of your contract has been mentioned by anyone other than yourselves. Aside from myself, is there any other person belonging to this school aware of your... relationship?"

"No."

"Very well. I'm sorry to have to ask, but procedure demands it is so; has Albus Dumbledore coerced you in any way?"

"Of course not! How can you suggest such a thing?"

"Be at peace, Miss McGonagall. The situation demands the question. With little enough prompting you have demonstrated a mutual affection, which I will do nothing to hinder provided that it does not become common knowledge. Indeed, Miss McGonagall, there are no rules prohibiting student-teacher relations, however you must be aware that such things are frowned upon." Hope swelled inside Minerva's heart. She didn't dare look at Albus. "I must bid you both good day and insist that Miss McGonagall rests for the remainder of the week. No classes." And with that he reached for a small mountain of paperwork.

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Perhaps it is the decongestant tablets, or perhaps your reviews helping me get better. I'm not sure, so if you could review it would be much appreciated