A/N: I feel like I'm repeating myself, but it bears repeating - thank you all for your wonderful reviews. You're amazing and you certainly don't have to worry about 'spamming'. I will never tire of hearing from you, especially at this stage in the story. I know you all have your own ideas of how Albus and Minerva should move from friendship to romance and I hope I can live up to some of them at least.

36. Church Bells

With only one eye on his morning newspaper, Albus reserved the other for Minerva. She had received a letter from home, and while those letters had never again contained news as devastating as in her first weeks as a Hogwarts professor, she was sometimes still moody afterwards.

Today, she seemed fine, and so Albus had just turned towards Horace to ask him to pass the milk when Minerva gasped. Not sure if he should ask, he nevertheless turned back around to her.

She met his gaze and said, "My brother is getting married."

"Which one?" Albus asked, both surprised and relieved that this was joyous news, at least in principle.

"Junior, I mean, Robert," she corrected herself. Perhaps she thought that a soon to be married man deserved to be called by his proper name.

"I wasn't aware that he was seeing someone." Naturally, all of Albus' information was only second-hand from bits and pieces Minerva had told him.

She looked just as stunned, however, as she read over the letter once more. "Neither did I. Apparently, he was visiting my parents when he met her."

"Is she from your village then or from somewhere in Caithness at least?"

"Not exactly. My mother writes that she's Mrs. Caraidland's great-niece and was only visiting, too. I didn't even know Mrs. Caraidland had family," Minerva said, her eyebrows rising steadily higher.

Albus searched his memory for the name. "Mrs. Caraidland is the neighbour with the nosy cat and the haggis bon-bons, isn't she?"

The astonished look on Minerva's face was joined by a crooked smile. "You've really been listening to me."

"I don't see why that statement warrants such a tone of surprise," Albus replied with a hint of indignation.

Minerva overlooked that. "Yes, Mrs. Caraidland is as known for her haggis as she is for being a busybody."

"She doesn't have magical kin, does she? Because then her trying to spy on you would take on a very different meaning."

"No, she's definitely a Muggle, and so is her great-niece, whom she personally introduced to Robert, apparently, and now they're getting married."

"That's fast," Albus noted.

"That's my brother," Minerva amended.

Albus hadn't been in touch with Robert in years, but rash decision-making did seem in character. "And your parents approve?"

"Approve?" Minerva snorted. "They are thrilled. They've been waiting to get one of us married for years."

She laughed, but the smile on her face quickly turned pensive. It wasn't hard to guess that this had to bring up memories for her, memories of her own less fortunate love story and intended nuptials. The similarities were indeed curious.

Albus reached over to lightly rest a hand on her arm. "I'm sure it will be a lovely celebration."

Minerva was quiet for a moment longer before she looked up at him. "Will you come?"

"Me?" Albus leaned back, caught off guard. "I very much doubt that I'm invited."

"With me," Minerva clarified impatiently. "Will you come with me?"

"I'm not sure your brother would like his former teacher to attend his wedding," Albus hedged.

Minerva's gaze didn't waver. "Please. I beg of you as a friend."

"That hardly seems fair as it would be impossible for me to say no to that," Albus pointed out, which clearly meant 'yes' in Minerva's book.

Her face lit up triumphantly. "All right then, it's a Muggle wedding, so you'll be needing a suit, or actually, a tuxedo would be preferable."

"Is that all?" Albus asked drily.

"Yes, I'll let you choose what kind of tie you want to wear."

"Oh, but you should really colour coordinate that with your dress, Minerva," Horace chimed in all of a sudden. "The two of you will look fabulous that way."

Albus looked from Horace to Minerva, not quite sure what had happened to his quiet morning. "Well, what dress are you going to wear?"

Minerva groaned. "Oh Lord, I need a dress."

It certainly looked that way because, apparently, they were going to a wedding.

"What's the verdict? Will I pass Mrs. Caraidland's muster?" Albus asked as he met Minerva in her office, so they could leave for the wedding together.

He was pretty sure that he looked Muggle-appropriate, but he was a little less certain when he felt Minerva's eyes on him. If anyone could point out a possible misstep on his part, it was her. Horace had offered his help in dressing him for the occasion. Albus had politely (but resolutely) declined.

He had decided to keep things simple, assuming he couldn't go wrong with a black tuxedo, low-cut vest and bowtie. The only concession to Horace's colour schemes he had made was a red handkerchief. More importantly, he had cut his hair and trimmed his beard, relieved to find no streaks of grey in it yet. It was a thought born of pure vanity, of course, but he was glad for it all the same. Especially when Minerva now reached up to stroke his beard with the back of her hand.

"Well, I definitely like it short," she said. "Makes you look sharp. And the only thing Mrs. Caraidland will have to say is whether you'd like to marry any other nieces or granddaughters she might have."

Albus chortled. "Oh dear, then perhaps I better wear something else."

"Oh no, you can't change now that we've just so successfully colour coordinated," Minerva joked at Horace's expense.

It turned out, though, that Albus could no longer argue with it, now that he saw the result. Then again, that Minerva's dark red off-shoulder dress matched his handkerchief wasn't nearly as pertinent as the fact that she looked beautiful in it. Or, he thought to himself with a wry smile, bewitching.

"Then I suppose we should get going," he said, offering her his arm.

She took it, but once her hand rested in the crook of his arm, she hesitated. "Would you mind making sure that we don't start a whole new set of rumours?"

Albus chuckled. The thought had occurred to him as well. He just didn't want to be the one to make her beauty today simply disappear. But upon her request, he now used his free hand to reach for his wand and shrouded them both in a powerful Disillusionment Charm.

That way, they left the castle and the school grounds before they Disapparated and reappeared in the woods near the church at a previously agreed upon Apparition point for all witches and wizards attending the wedding. The story, in case any of the Muggles asked where they had come from, was that Robert had booked a special shuttle service of some kind for guests from farther out.

It was a pleasantly warm day and the walk to the church wasn't long. As soon as they spotted other guests milling about, Minerva stiffened. Not for the first time, Albus wondered if she had asked him to come to run interference for her.

"He's not invited," Minerva said suddenly, quietly. "I asked."

"I see," Albus replied.

Either way, she had his support in whatever form she needed it.

Her brother stood on the front steps of the church, greeting his guests. Like most of the men in attendance, Robert was wearing a tartan kilt. It made Albus feel a little out of place in his tux. "Minerva! You made it! And you brought… Albus Dumbledore… to my wedding…" He shook his head, laughing. "Of course, you did! Hello again, Professor."

"Good day to you, Robert. And congratulations," Albus said.

"Thank you! Take seats wherever you like and you can leave your gifts in the foyer."

"I'm not sure you deserve gifts for not even telling me in person that you're getting married. Never mind properly introducing me to your bride," Minerva retorted.

Robert was clearly too happy to look chastised. "Sorry, sorry, everything happened so fast. I figured it was easier to let Mama tell you. And I knew you'd forgive me because you still owe me."

Minerva frowned. "For what?"

"Well, I was the one who first suggested that you should become a teacher, wasn't I?" Robert explained. "When you were nervous about having Career Advice with Professor Dumbledore?"

"Oh, I remember. I remember you calling me a teacher's pet."

Robert grinned. "You know, I would apologise, but you brought your boss to my wedding, so I'd say my statement still stands."

"He's not my…" Minerva faltered because as head of their department, technically, he was.

"I'm a friend," Albus offered instead.

"Okay, 'friends', come on in then and find your seats," Robert said, moving on to the next guests.

As they made their way inside the church, Minerva shook her head. "I'm sorry about that, Albus."

"When it comes to little brothers, I would never judge," he assured her. "And for what it's worth, a little good-natured ribbing seems by far preferable to no talking at all."

She gave him a sad smile before they joined her mother Isobel and her youngest brother Malcolm. Her father, of course, was getting ready to perform the service. As was to be expected of Reverend McGonagall, the ceremony started right on time as scheduled.

Albus had never been at a church wedding before. It was fascinating, really, to take in the happiness that radiated from the bride and groom, the solemn demeanour of the reverend as he prepared the two of them to become husband and wife, and the hushed excitement of the guests.

He was so busy observing the proceedings that he noticed too late that Minerva's hands were so cramped that they were turning white. She had her eyes trained on the happy couple like everyone else, but they were glassy and brimming with unshed, broken tears.

Albus was very sure that right now she wasn't truly sitting in this church at all. In her mind, she was standing where her brother now stood, claiming what was perhaps her right as eldest daughter of the family, namely to be the first to be wed by their father, and she was holding the hand of the man she had loved. Probably wondering if she really couldn't have made it work when clearly her brother had found a way to unite the best of both worlds. And perhaps asking God or anyone else who would listen why these wounds simply wouldn't heal.

He desperately wished that he could give her the answers she sought, today even more so than when she had first confided in him. But it seemed he was just as useless to her now as he had been then. So in lieu of that, Albus silently reached over to take her hand. Minerva flinched at first, needing a moment to find her way out of her dark musings and to return to the present. Then she shifted to hold his hand in her lap in both of hers, holding on as if to dear life.

Albus responded to her pressure with a gentle squeeze, offering whatever comfort his presence meant to her, because that at least, that he could do.

When the service ended, everyone stood and cheered. Minerva followed suit and let go of his hand. How she was feeling, Albus could not say, but at least her tears had not fallen.

The wedding party moved outside where food, drink and dance had been prepared on a meadow near the church.

It was now that Reverend McGonagall had the first opportunity to greet his daughter. "Minerva," was all he said as he embraced and kissed her, but it was all that was needed to convey his affections. "I'm so glad you could come."

"Of course, I came. You know I wouldn't miss Robert's wedding!"

"What I know is that we've barely gotten to see you these past few years," Robert Sr. said, his voice soft, but his reproach clear.

Minerva opened her mouth to defend herself and then closed it again.

Albus cleared his throat. "It's nice to see you again, Reverend McGonagall. It was a beautiful ceremony. Congratulations to you on your son's marriage."

"Thank you," the reverend replied, his eyes going from Minerva to Albus. "If you've enjoyed the service, then may I ask if you'll ever make an honest woman out of my daughter?"

Minerva choked on her glass of celebratory champagne, which gave Albus an excuse to pat her back and leave it to her to answer.

"Albus and I are just here as friends," she managed, her eyes watering.

"Well, good, I suppose you wouldn't want to marry an enemy. I think none of us are capable of taking the Bible quite that literally, though we could certainly use more love in the world," her father said. "Or do you disagree, Professor?"

"I do not, but I can assure you that your daughter doesn't need a man, certainly not me, to vouch for her integrity and honour," Albus replied.

"Thank you for saying that, but I'm afraid you won't understand what I'm saying unless you have children of your own, which I assume you don't?"

"No."

"Then how do you propose to bring more love into this world?" the reverend wanted to know.

"Robert! Will you come over here and finally introduce me to my sister-in-law?" Minerva called loudly, quite cleverly sparing Albus the need to answer her father's loaded questions.

The newlyweds followed her call and the newly minted Deborah McGonagall headed straight for Minerva with both of her hands outstretched. "Minerva, it's so good to meet you. I've heard a lot of great things about you from Robert."

"Have you now?" Minerva asked, looking sceptically at her brother.

"Of course, I wouldn't trust a man who talks ill of his big sister." As if to prove her point, she nodded in the direction of her family. They were standing nearby talking to Isobel. One of them was unmistakably her own younger brother.

Minerva smiled. "I like her," she told Robert.

He roared with laughter, perhaps a little too loudly. It was clear that he couldn't contain his joy, and no one would have expected him to. "I do, too. But we're being rude," he added, glancing at Albus. "Sorry, Professor. Debbie, this is Albus Dumbledore."

She turned towards him, her eyes widening. "Wait. The Dumbledore?"

Albus arched an eyebrow. "That depends on what you've heard." He wasn't used to that reaction from Muggles. Usually, he only got blank stares. Truth be told, it made for a wonderful change.

But Robert had surely told his wife more than just stories of his childhood. "Well, it sounds to me like you're practically wizard royalty," she said.

Minerva snorted into her glass in mock disbelief.

"No, definitely not," Albus translated her non-verbal response. It was nice to know that he could always count on Minerva to make sure he kept his feet firmly on the ground.

Deborah looked as though she wanted to discuss that point further, but Minerva was faster, "So, what are you two going to do after your honeymoon?"

"Didn't Mama tell you?" Robert asked in return. "I'm opening a Defence Against the Dark Arts store in Diagon Alley."

"What?" Clearly, Isobel had not mentioned that to Minerva.

"I already made the down payment on the shop," Robert confirmed. "I discovered lots of interesting stuff during my travels and I've been experimenting with some of my own. And Debbie here is an artist, so she'll help me design everything."

"I have no idea how the magic works, obviously, but I figure the same rules apply when it comes to making things look good so people want to buy them," she added, exchanging a smile with her husband.

Minerva looked from one to the other. "You seem to be doing remarkably well with learning about the existence of magic."

Deborah laughed. "I'm getting there. Believe me, I spent a couple of hours in tears, thinking I had fallen in love with a crazy person when Robert first tried to tell me. But it got easier. He took me to your Ministry so we could get married officially, and it was very impressive and… well, magical, I guess. But essentially, it's still the same as any normal registry office. You just get things done a lot faster by using magic," she said. "I am a little jealous of that. I take it, there's really no chance that I have any magic in me that I could learn?" she asked, looking at Albus.

"I'm afraid not," he told her as kindly as he could.

She shrugged. "But our children will be wizards, yes?"

Robert wrapped an arm around her. "Woah, hold on there, Debbie. We haven't even gotten to the wedding night yet."

"Oh, shush, Robert! I'm talking to Mr. Dumbledore," she told him off.

"It is very likely that your children will be capable of magic, yes," Albus confirmed.

"But you could tell us, right? You have that… that book at your school? So you could let us know right away?"

Albus glanced at Minerva for some assistance, but she said, "That sounds like a question for the deputy headmaster to me. I will get something new to drink. I think I'm done with champagne."

And she just left him there with her sister-in-law who looked like she had a lot more questions ready.

After she had gotten rid of her half-empty champagne glass, Minerva bypassed the refreshment table and headed further away from the rest of the reception. At first, she thought she was just looking for a quiet spot to clear her head, but she quickly recognised the path her feet were taking on their own accord, using an old shortcut through the woods. She only stopped when she could see it. Down below, by the bottom of the hill.

The McGregors' farm.

She wasn't about to go down there, she just wanted to see it. The farmhouse was bigger than she remembered, and there were at least two new stables and an additional pasture. Not all of the moving dots Minerva could see from here were cows, though. If she strained her ears, she could hear dogs barking and children laughing. It seemed Dougal had taken his father's legacy and made it even better.

Her heart was heavy, but she was happy for him. She truly was. He deserved it. He deserved the very best that life had to offer and that did no longer include her. Which also meant that she had no right to spy on him. She knew that, but it was still hard to let go and to turn around again. It took some time until her feet were willing to do what the rest of her was trying valiantly to accept.

When Minerva finally did turn back, she did so in a hurry, so that hopefully no one at the reception would have noticed her little detour.

"I knew you had to come back home eventually."

She froze when a dark figure stepped out from behind the trees to her right. It was as though she had fallen into one of her nightmares when she had least expected it.

It was Eion Northcroft, whom she had almost managed to forget entirely. She certainly hadn't wasted a thought on him today. Which looked like the last mistake she would ever make. It wasn't just Northcroft's eyes that glittered maliciously, he was also twirling his wand, or the wand he had stolen from someone, between his fingers.

And Minerva didn't have hers.

This stupid sheath dress she was wearing might cut a fine figure, but it left no room for anything, not even a wand. So she had given it to Albus, whose tuxedo had pockets at least, and she hadn't anticipated that they would get separated. Also, she hadn't thought that she would actually need it.

Which left Minerva with only one option. She transformed, shrinking into her Tabby cat self within seconds. Just as quickly, she realised that she had nowhere to go because if she ran back towards the reception, she would lead Northcroft right to her family. If she went the other way, she would put Dougal and his family in danger. So Minerva didn't run at all.

She jumped.

Northcroft wasn't surprised by her transformation this time, but his aim still wasn't good enough for his curse to hit her before Minerva hit him. With her claws fully extended, she landed in his face and dug her paws into his cheeks and throat, scratching and screeching.

Northcroft yelled in pain, but he managed to seize her by the scruff of her neck and with a bellow of rage, he flung her away from him. Even Minerva's cat senses didn't know where up and down was until she hit the trunk of a tree and dropped to the forest floor. She jumped back up, but now Northcroft was faster. A fine-meshed net landed on top of her and pinned her to the ground.

Bleeding and seething, Northcroft appeared over her. Minerva could have tried to break the net by changing back into a human, but as things stood, it didn't seem to matter in which form she chose to die. Northcroft didn't immediately point his wand at her, he kicked her first. In the side, in the face. Her feline body was resilient, but not unbreakable.

He stopped, managing to rein in his anger. "You know, I think I like your size better this way. Makes it easier for me to take you away from here while I decide what to do with you. We wouldn't want anyone to come looking for you."

"Too late."

Minerva's heart leapt when she heard that intimately familiar voice. It was shaking with cold fury, but it was still unmistakable.

Northcroft clearly recognised the owner of that voice as well and made the only smart decision. He twisted on the spot and Disapparated.

There was a loud bang, a scream and then Northcroft reappeared, stumbling to the ground. When he realised that Albus' Anti-Disapparition-Jinx stopped him from leaving by magical means, Northcroft tried running.

A fiery bird erupted from the tip of Albus' wand, opened its beak with a terrifying shriek and swallowed Northcroft whole, engulfing him in a ball of flames. At first, there was nothing but Northcroft's muffled cries. Then a feeble jet of water shot out of his wand, but it only managed to shrink the flames to the size of blistering ropes that wrapped themselves around his body and then tightened until he keeled over and landed face first in the dirt. Mercifully, it also cut off his howling.

Leaving Northcroft where he had fallen, Albus hurried over to her. "Minerva," he said urgently as he knelt and made the net on top of her disappear. "Can you change back?"

She took a deep breath, focused on her human self and cried out in pain. She had never transformed while being injured before. It was not pleasant.

Albus' eyes roamed over her in concern. "I'm taking you to St. Mungo's."

"No!" she breathed and hissed when that hurt, too. "I think it's just a broken rib. You can fix that."

"Minerva, let me get you professional help."

"No, just get me back to my brother's wedding."

Albus' brow furrowed. "You're not serious."

"Do I not look serious? It's bad enough that he got the jump on me. I won't let him ruin my brother's big day," Minerva insisted. Certainly not after several members of her family had already berated her for making herself so scarce in recent years. "Please, Albus. Just do it."

He looked at her for a long moment before he gave in with a sigh. Minerva tried not to wince when he ran his hands over her chest and stomach, gently probing for that broken rib. It was easy enough to find. At the touch of Albus' wand, a searing heat shot through her and then Minerva could breathe easily again.

She wanted to move, but Albus surprised her by cupping her cheek with his hand. Her confusion at his touch cleared when he raised his wand again and healed a cut over her right eye and a bruise underneath it that she hadn't been able to see. Then he helped her back to her feet. She wasn't one hundred percent, but it was good enough.

"Wand, please," she said.

Wordlessly, Albus handed it to her.

Minerva walked over to Northcroft and flipped him onto his back. He was red in the face from the heat of Albus' glowing chains. Minerva could feel their power just by standing close to him. He also coughed up dirt. Once his mouth was free, he wanted to spew forth demands and insults, but Minerva silenced him.

"Our Minister wants to start a Dementor breeding programme," she told him. "He will probably be forced out of office before that ever happens, but in case he does succeed, you will be the first to know because I can promise you that you will never leave Azkaban ever again."

Having said that, she turned back towards Albus. "Tell Elphinstone I will give him my statement after my brother's wedding. He won't like it, but…"

"I will explain the situation to him," Albus nodded.

"Good, and then come back here when you're done."

"Minerva, I don't know how long…"

She shook her head, not letting him finish. "Just get rid of him and come back, Albus. Unless you want to explain to my father why you ditched me."

It wasn't enough to make Albus smile, but at least he agreed. "I will be back when I can."

Turning to leave, Minerva stopped one more time. "Oh, and… thank you for coming after me."

Albus held her gaze for a heartbeat before he said, "Of everything I have ever done, this might be the least worthy of your thanks. It was entirely selfish and very nearly too late."

"Or it was just the opposite," Minerva replied with a small smile before she truly started on her way back.

Thankfully, she remembered to clean her dress from the dirt stains that would have given her away. She could do nothing about her hair, though. The braid it had been in before her transformation had taken her an hour to do this morning, so she simply left it open now. She doubted that anyone would ask.

Pretending as though nothing had happened still wouldn't be easy. She couldn't stop thinking about Northcroft. Mostly good thoughts, though. After all, the knowledge that he was free had weighed on her for weeks. Now that chapter from her past was firmly closed again. It made her realise how much her life had changed since his first arrest. How much she had changed.

Northcroft wasn't the only chapter that might be closing. Yes, it had hurt to watch her brother's whirlwind romance culminate in a beautiful wedding in their father's church, despite the fact that he and his wife came from different worlds. But Minerva had finally understood that being reminded of Dougal would always hurt because she would probably always love him.

Perhaps it was because the first love was the deepest or because he had taken something from her – a different Minerva, a different life that could have been but never was. Either way, she had also understood something else. That she was hurting like this meant that at least she was still feeling, still wanting.

And she wanted more than just the memory of love.

Minerva's temporary absence, followed by Albus' disappearance, did raise a couple of questions. But mostly, people had other more pleasant things to talk about. Minerva got the chance to recover from her ordeal and to get to know her new sister-in-law when they sat at a table together, just the two of them. They talked for quite a while – until somebody else demanded the bride's attention.

Later in the evening, Albus returned. Minerva had tried not to think about Northcroft too much so she could focus on her brother's wedding, but she did want to know how it had gone at the Ministry. She couldn't ask, though, because her family was sitting nearby. Eventually, she got her chance when the dancing started and everyone else had left the table.

"So?" she prompted Albus.

"He's back in Azkaban," he informed her.

Minerva frowned. "You mean he's on his way back to Azkaban?"

"No, I mean he's back in Azkaban," Albus repeated.

She sighed when she realised what he was saying. "You didn't have to bring him in person, you know."

"Yes, I really did."

"Nothing about this is your fault, Albus. He came after me because I was the one who arrested him. You weren't even involved," Minerva said, leaning in closer so no one would hear her urgent whisper.

Not even Albus seemed to hear her, not really. "I promised you…"

"I thought we've been over this," she cut him off. "You can't promise to protect me unless you let me do the same…"

Suddenly Albus stood, and for a moment, Minerva thought he would walk away, but then he held out a hand. "May I have this dance?"

Startled, Minerva couldn't react right away. "What?"

"You seem to be feeling like yourself again, and we're at a wedding. So I believe I owe you at least one dance," Albus said, still holding out his hand to her.

It was a thinly veiled excuse to end their conversation. But to say that he looked magnificent in that tuxedo would have been an understatement, so Minerva wasn't about to deny him anything.

She had been asked to dance before and she had never really wanted to. Now she realised that the problem wasn't that she didn't like dancing. She just needed to trust the man she was dancing with. After all, she was supposed to let him take the lead, which was not her strong suit. But it was different with Albus.

Mindful of her lingering injuries, he held her so gently and at the same time so securely in his arms that Minerva's resistance to letting him take care of her melted slowly but steadily. They swayed to the music and it was the easiest thing in the world not to think of Northcroft anymore. At least for Minerva, but the twinkle that had returned to Albus' eyes suggested he felt the same way.

She was almost sure of it when he said, "You forgot to fix your hair." It was such a silly thing to say.

"I didn't forget. I didn't have time," she replied.

"I like it open. Makes you look glamorous," he echoed her words to him from this morning and he lifted his hand from her back to brush a strand of hair out of her face and back behind her ear.

Suddenly Minerva felt something she thought had died a long time ago. Her heart fluttered. Just for a moment. And then it throbbed in a steady, exhilarated, familiar pace, clamouring to be heard.

"Well, don't get used to it. There aren't a lot of dances at Hogwarts," she said.

"I'm sure Horace would have an idea how to remedy that," Albus suggested.

"That sounds like a potential out-of-the-frying-pan-into-the-fire situation."

He chuckled. "Very true."

"Not that you have anything to fear from fire. Clearly." Minerva shuddered a little when she thought of the rage that had fuelled his spell from earlier.

"I didn't mean to frighten you," Albus said cautiously.

"Frighten me? By doing incredible magic?" Minerva just gave him a look. "That's not how you frighten me."

"How else then?"

"By insisting to always put everything on your shoulders."

"They are used to it."

"They shouldn't be. You need to learn how to share, Your Majesty."

Albus looked confused for a second before he remembered Debbie's comment about him being royalty. "You thought that was funny, did you?"

"Immensely," she snickered.

"Careful. Offending a reigning sovereign was once a serious crime," he warned her.

"I'm not worried."

"And why's that?"

"Because I know how you play chess and you don't execute people, not pawns and certainly not your queen."

"Because a king without his queen makes for a very poor king."

"In chess or in life?"

"Both."

"Albus?" Minerva lifted her eyes to his.

His eyes were already on her. "Yes?"

"Thank you for coming with me today. And I don't mean for saving my life, but for all the rest of it, for this," she said.

"I already told you there is no need to thank me," he replied as he pulled her closer to prevent a collision with a couple that was dancing a lot more enthusiastically (and probably inebriated).

Albus and Minerva were only moving in very small circles now, so she just wrapped her arms around his neck. "Is that your way of saying that you've enjoyed coming with me today?"

"That was never in any doubt. It was merely a question of finding the time to get away from work," he said, lacing his hands together behind her lower back.

"I'm sure it'll still be there waiting for you tomorrow. And it's getting late, so we should probably leave," Minerva said, though she didn't make a move to let go.

"Probably," Albus agreed, also not moving.

"Or," Minerva said and dropped her head onto his shoulder to let it rest there, "we could stay right here."

And so they danced.

At some time in the night, they returned to Hogwarts. The entire castle was asleep, so there was no more need for Disillusionment Charms. Albus walked Minerva all the way back to her office.

"Well, you've personally made sure that it's perfectly safe again," she said as she entered.

"The only reason you needed me to was because you didn't have this," Albus replied, following her inside, and he handed her back her wand.

After Northcroft's attack Minerva had vowed never to go without it again, but then she hadn't known what to do with it during their dance, so she had let Albus keep it for her once more. After all, she had been in his arms, so it wasn't as if it was out of her reach.

"Yes, I suppose the dress should have come with a warning that it's utter rubbish when you're being chased by a dark wizard," Minerva quipped.

"It has other qualities," Albus said, his voice low, making Minerva feel hot and cold at the same time.

She stepped towards him to straighten his crooked tie, though it no longer mattered. She just wanted to take one last look at him dressed up like this. "I don't think you should get rid of the tux either."

"Are you anticipating another wedding? Your other brother, perhaps?" Albus asked with a teasing smile.

"I wouldn't mind as long as I could persuade you to come with me again." Minerva looked up from his now fixed tie, miscalculating how close that brought her to his face.

She could practically feel Albus' breath on her cheek when he said, "We probably shouldn't jinx your brother and only plan as far ahead as calling it a night."

While Minerva didn't believe in jinxes of that sort, she couldn't deny that she needed sleep. But she was sad to let this day end, as bittersweet as it had been.

"Albus, do you believe that we all have room for more than one great love in our lives?" she asked quietly.

"I think," he said slowly, "sometimes we don't even have a choice in the matter."

Perhaps that was a good thing since Minerva had a tendency to choose wrong. For now, she chose to tilt her head up a little more at the same time that Albus brought his down to hers.

But only so he could softly press his lips to her cheek. "Have a good night then. I'm very glad that you are unhurt, and I hope that you will rest easy tonight."

"What else could I be after you worked your magic on me?" she said with a sigh. He had fused her bones and mended her skin and what he had done to her heart she couldn't quite say.

If Albus knew, all he said was, "Sweet dreams, Minerva."