Droplets of the Soul

Minerva's hands were shaking. She could see the ripples in her tea as she held the full cup between her fingers. Kalypto had helped her and Dumbledore get up from the tables and out of the Great Hall just before the students descended for dinner. They would all be in there now, waiting for their headmaster and deputy headmistress to join them, innocent to what had just taken place in that very room.

They had been in Dumbledore's office for a full ten minutes and still no one had spoken. Kalypto was standing by the chimney breast in an alcove that was not lit by the fire. Dumbledore was standing by the window at the back of his office looking out over his school grounds with thoughts unknown to Minerva rushing through his mind.

Minerva was perching on the edge of Dumbledore's desk. She vaguely thought about putting her cup on his work surface and hiding her shaking hands from view, but the hot drink was warming her cold fingers.

Dumbledore's clock that had once been in the transfiguration classroom seemed to be ticking louder than usual. The fire was hissing in the grate and the quiet sound of a calm wind outside could be heard against the windows. It seemed strange that no one was speaking. Minerva thought she knew the reason why Dumbledore was not – the same reason she herself had not said a word: fear that what had happened would not be what she was hoping.

Strange feelings were bubbling up inside Minerva. There was a kind of urgency in her that wanted Kalypto out of the room. She wanted to turn to Dumbledore. To see in his eyes what she thought she had seen in the Great Hall not half an hour ago. She wanted his reassurance, his attention. She wanted him.

There was a soft noise behind her as Dumbledore turned and his robes whispered over the floor. Minerva did not look round but stared into her cup. Now it had come to it, she found she could not turn to him. What if the look in his eyes proved her memory false? What if she was mistaken?

Out of the corner of her eye she watched Dumbledore walk past her and further into the centre of his office. Her hands would not be still no matter how hard she willed them to be. She looked down at the quivering liquid in her cup. She could think of nothing but Dumbledore. Then, finally, he spoke.

"I am ready to hear what you have to say, Kalypto."

His voice was quiet, uncertain almost. Was he really ready? Minerva thought, as she took in his hesitant tones.

"Minerva," he continued with equal softness.

Minerva clenched her teeth and slowly raised her eyes to him. She was nervous. She could feel her shaky breaths matching the tremors in her hands and stomach. Dumbledore's eyes gave away no emotion. He looked at her calmly, as if he was making up for her obvious nervousness.

"Are you prepared to hear this?"

Minerva nodded. Dumbledore gave her the smallest of smiles in what she presumed was an attempt to reassure her. He turned back to Kalypto who had stepped forward, her thin black veil floating around her figure. He stood a little way in front of his desk, his hands by his sides. Each line on his skin was so familiar to Minerva. The number of times she had held those hands; the number of times they had touched her, stroked her, fought for her, was incalculable.

Kalypto took another step forward out of the shadows and stood before them now, ready to reveal the secrets that had been kept from Dumbledore and Minerva for so long. She seemed to regard them both for several seconds before her rough, low voice cut through the air.

"The ties that bind us are mysterious," she began. "The project, the mission to discover what these connections are and how they work, was never supposed to go this far. Nature must be observed but never exposed unnaturally; never be tampered with. We did both.

"I am no witch. My people are Searches of Souls and our race is dying. We are called the Tego. There are writings, ancient texts of the Tegii who have looked upon souls and been enlightened. They have reached the higher plain. That is our purpose. It is our end.

"Lee never knew what I was. It did not concern him how I saw your bond, only that I could. I revealed to him what the ancient manuscripts say about the soul. I told him how it has been described by my forefathers, though I never told him my source. It was only after he heard about the events after productum intumesco that he became interested in what I had to say.

Minerva's heart was beating fast against her rib cage. Kalypto's words had her transfixed. She could not believe what she was hearing. Their souls? The Tegii? She felt no shock upon hearing that Kalypto was not a witch. She thought back and realised that she had never seen a wand in the woman's hands. Not even at the Disunion. The matter of what she really was, however, did come as a surprise. The Tegii were spoken of very rarely among the wizarding world; so rarely in fact that many witches and wizards do not know of them. They exist purely to lay their empty eyes upon a soul. Most do not succeed.

"What your matron saw in the grounds was not a part of productum intumesco," Kalypto continued. "It was not created by Lee, nor predicted by any of us. The ancient texts tell us of connections between two people that are so deep that a fragment of their souls are embedded in the other."

Here Kalypto took a deep, rattling breath as though she was preparing herself to reveal something more terrible than they could imagine. Minerva and Dumbledore were silent, their attention fully focused on the masked woman before them. She turned her face to Minerva, and though Minerva could not see her eyes, she knew that Kalypto was looking right at her.

"The fragment of Albus Dumbledore's soul that has always survived in you was being pulled from you that night. Not the whole fragment, not enough to lose your connection to him, but a portion of it. It was torn out of you as matter – the transference forced it to take shape as the black substance your matron saw."

Kalypto's veiled head moved and she looked upon Dumbledore.

"The same happened to you. Your souls were performing an unnatural act. The pain must have been excruciating. But until now, I did not realise the full meaning of the transference.

"Your bodies were protecting your souls. It was a natural and subconscious defence; a small piece tore itself away from you both in order to save itself. If the fragments had not transferred, the Disunion would have destroyed them and your connection with it."

She addressed Dumbledore: "When you came to me to ask me to carry out the Disunion, the transference had already happened. A part of your soul that belonged to Professor McGonagall was in you now and could not be destroyed because it was yours.

"From then on the fragments have lived inadequately in a body they do not belong to. Since they transferred they have been trying to return to where they truly belong. The transference back would be a gradual and emotionally painful process. When Lee found me several months ago we realised this and began working on a way to speed the process up. That was what we did tonight." Kalypto paused and turned back to Minerva. "But there was one aspect we had not taken into consideration," she said.

"Touch," Minerva whispered.

"Touch," Kalypto echoed in her harsh voice. "It was not enough for you to simply be close to each other because a third person could disrupt the transference back. Touch was essential."

Kalypto fell silent. Dumbledore and Minerva could not speak. There was so much to process. The black substance Poppy had seen had been their souls transferring. It was all so overwhelming. Minerva found that her breath had quickened without her realising. The sensations she had had before, the feeling that something had been ripped painfully from her and then the terrible, endless void inside her – she could barely think of it. She felt violated. They had been stripped down to almost nothing; laid bare like playthings and exposed for Horendus' selfish means.

But there were still questions that remained unanswered, and after several silent minutes of thought, Dumbledore voiced the first.

"If only a portion of the fragment of my soul that resides in Minerva was transferred back to me, what has happened to the part that remained in her?" He spoke with difficulty, attempting to process with tremendous effort the words which Kalypto had spoken, whilst trying to remain composed.

"It was destroyed in the Disunion," Kalypto replied. "That is why you still do not feel as you did before productum intumesco."

"The part that was destroyed, the part kept us connected, is gone forever?" Minerva asked. It was the first full sentence she had spoken since Kalypto and Horendus arrived at the gates. Kalypto's veil moved as she looked at Minerva.

"It only matters that some of it was saved," she said scratchily. "That alone is enough to save your bond. The connection between you will re-grow. Your souls need to rebuild, to replenish themselves. It will come… with time."

There was another silence as the full effects of what Kalypto said sunk in. Their bond will re-grow. The elation Minerva felt in her stomach was such that she barely contained her pleasure. This sentence alone confirmed that the look in Dumbledore's eyes was not imagined. She had caught a glimpse of his emotion. His affection for her had returned – not completely, Kalypto said that it would take time – but it was happening; she had begun to feel it already. The void inside her was beginning to dwindle.

There was another question that needed asking, however, and this time it was Minerva who spoke.

"What did you mean before, when you said you had seen what he had not? 'Droplets of the Soul'?"

Kalypto did not speak at first, but when she did there was a poisonous note to her tone.

"Ever since Lee learned of the transference he became obsessed with finding a soul, collecting one. In the transference when it changes to black matter, Lee wanted to capture it. Study it. I simply wanted to see it. Only a Tegii can become enlightened by the vision of a soul. Unlike a wizard, they cannot interfere with it – they would not want to.

"When I put your hands together something happened that I believe, like before, you did not see. Your eyes were black, there was no colour to them. When your skin touched jet black droplets rose from your eyes and glided into the others'. You did not feel the pain as you had before – they were returning to their rightful place. That is what they are: atra anima: Droplets of the Soul."

Minerva turned to Dumbledore, astonished. What Kalypto was saying was so unbelievable, but it also made complete sense. Dumbledore was looking intently at Kalypto. Minerva saw him frown, then he voiced his thoughts:

"You are waiting to leave us, are you not?"

Kalypto's whole body turned in the direction of Dumbledore.

"I have seen the atra anima. It is my time to ascend. I can feel it inside me. But I was part of the cause of your pain. You needed to know why this has happened to you both."

"Thank you," Dumbledore said gently. "I am sure I speak for Minerva when I say that you have answered all we need to know."

Kalypto nodded, looking to both of them. Then, suddenly, she brought her hands to the bottom of her veil and in one swift motion she swept the cloth from her figure.

Minerva gasped and stood up from the desk. Kalypto's eyes, still pure white, were glowing as bright as moonlight. Her chest was heaving as she looked up and held out her arms as though praying to the heavens. The light from her eyes began to grow. It swelled around her body, enveloping it until it was too bright for Minerva to look at. She covered her eyes with her hand, still half-trying to see what was happening.

With a bright flash the room lit up, and then suddenly all the white light was swallowed into nothingness.

Minerva blinked. Her eyes were still adjusting to the sudden darkness. When the afterglow had faded only Dumbledore stood before her. Kalypto had vanished.

She was still processing all the information that had been revealed. Everything was so jumbled but also so clear in Minerva's mind. All this time since the aftermath of productum intumesco she had been holding a part of her soul that was not meant for her – it belonged to Dumbledore. Minerva's body had simply been protecting it during the events of the Disunion. Their bodies had been a step ahead without them even knowing it. A natural protection, Kalypto had said. The strain in her chest since the transference was obvious now. One part of her soul did not belong to her; it had wanted to return to Dumbledore, where it belonged.

Dumbledore and Minerva were in silence once again, staring at the space where Kalypto had stood only seconds ago. At some point, she could not recall when, Minerva had put down her cup of tea.

They were alone now and something stirred inside Minerva at the thought. It was a feeling not unfamiliar to her from the days before the Disunion.

"Albus," she said. But before she could continue he had walked the three strides it took to reach her. She felt his hand seize the back of her neck and his other her lower back as he pulled her towards him.

The familiarity of his lips against hers filled Minerva with a longing such as she had never known. She brought her hands up to his head, threading her fingers through his long hair and pulled him harder against her.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The fist against the office door was quiet at first, but grew louder the more impatient the knocker became.

Dumbledore's lips softened against Minerva's. He pulled away gently then kissed her nose. He looked at her with a tenderness she had not realised that she missed, and she noticed that the familiar twinkle had returned to his eyes.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Minerva felt his hand move from the back of her neck and he stroked her cheek with the back of his warm fingers.

Minerva's eyes prickled with tears, but this time they were as welcome as the feel of Dumbledore's body pressing against her.

"Hello," he said softly.

Minerva knew exactly what he meant. I was like seeing him again after a long absence; as though these past months had been spent with a stranger – with distance and detachment. Minerva smiled through her tears.

"Hello," she whispered.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Dumbledore moved his head down once again and Minerva met his lips. Their kiss was gentle this time and Minerva relished it with pleasure. His lips, his breath, the feel of his hands on her and his body against hers were all so wonderfully familiar but also so new, as though they were starting from the beginning.

"Dumbledore! Are you in there?" It was Slughorn. They knew why he had come – they were conspicuously late for dinner.