A/N – I don't really have anything to say, I just feel like I should do an author's note

A/N – I don't really have anything to say, I just feel like I should do an author's note. This part continues pretty much directly from the last one. Enjoy!

* * *

When she woke, she was back at Hogwarts, in the hospital wing. Poppy Pomfrey was staring down into her face with obvious relief.

"Oh, good, you're awake. I thought you'd never come 'round."

Minerva groaned and sat up. "Poppy . . . How long have I been out?"

"About twenty-four hours," Poppy estimated. Minerva groaned again.

"Where's Albus?"

In answer, Poppy strode over to her viewing crystal. "Albus!" she called.

His response was immediate. "Yes, Poppy? Is Minerva awake?"

"Awake and asking for you."

"Will she be all right?" he asked anxiously.

"I think so, yes."

"Thank God. I'll be right up."

True to his word, Albus arrived in the hospital wing within five minutes. He looked down at her, relief shining out from his eyes, and exhaustion engraved on his features. Minerva rallied her strength, swung her legs over the edge of the bed, and sat up. Her head felt light and her vision swam, but she stayed upright.

"How are you feeling?" Albus asked her.

"Fine," she lied. "And you? You weren't injured?"

"I escaped unscathed," he confirmed.

Minerva smiled. "Good. Is Peter all right?"

"He's fine, thank God," Poppy answered. "It was just a deep cut; luckily I could fix it easily."

Albus helped Minerva up off the hard hospital bed. Poppy made an inarticulate protest, but both Albus and Minerva shot her a sharp glance, and she yielded to her superiors. Albus led Minerva up to her apartment, insisted on bringing her food and drink, and stood over her as she ate it. Finally she looked up at him, amused.

"Albus, you need not stand over me like a protective mother hen," she said. "Sit down and have something to eat; I couldn't possibly finish this."

Smiling sheepishly, he sat. He shared a large piece of chocolate cake with Minerva, and then told her to go and get some rest. She reminded him that she had just spent an entire day resting (if being unconscious can be considered resting), and went down to the staff room.

From long conversations with her fellow teachers Minerva gathered that nothing of importance had happened while she and Albus had been gone and that the students were bored. (Though it was between school years, most of the students remained at Hogwarts for safety reasons.)

In an unexpectedly foul mood, Minerva left the staff room and headed for her apartment. Albus intercepted her halfway there.

"No news?" he asked.

"None," Minerva snapped.

Albus sighed. Minerva left without another word and continued on up to her room in Gryffindor Tower. Albus watched her go, sighed again, shook his head, and went off toward the Great Hall.

Minerva's apartment was for the most part as practical and down-to-earth as she was, but here and there were beautiful things that had crept in over the years, gifts mostly. There was a pair of thick brass candlesticks on the plain wooden table under an elaborate wrought-iron chandelier. The walls were plain and bare but for a few exceptionally lovely paintings that had been birthday gifts from Albus.

Her bedroom had bare walls, a plain though comfortably large bed, and a mahogany bureau that had been inherited from her maternal grandmother. A small, stocky table sat by the bed, with a lamp sitting on it. The lamp had come back from China with a friend years ago. Its base was a porcelain dragon, and the shade was some sort of very fine fabric that Minerva was very partial to, with silk tassels hanging from the corners. The bathroom was rather larger than it needed to be, with gold faucets and a vast marble tub. It was naturally lovely, though Minerva had made no further attempts to beautify it.

Into this bathroom the owner of the apartment now swept, frustrated with life. She slammed the door behind her, drew a bath, threw off her robes, and began to climb in before stopping, adding some bath salts, and sinking slowly into the perfumed water.

She leant back against the marble wall, closing her eyes, letting total relaxation envelop her. Her black hair floated out across the water like a cloud. Her body ached from the battle with the Dark wizards.

God, she was exhausted. She had not realised just how very tired she was until she had got into the bath and stopped moving and thinking. She couldn't think now, and she wasn't entirely sure she could summon the energy to move if she wanted to.

So she simply lay in the water and let the waves of exhaustion sweep over her. They seemed to getting stronger; she couldn't resist them anymore. Her hand slid limply off the side of the marble tub as she slipped down into a deep well of unconsciousness.

Screams from the direction of Gryffindor Tower roused Albus from his preoccupation. He jumped to his feet, then paused, listening intently. Yes, the sounds were definitely coming from the direction of Gryffindor Tower. No doubt Minerva would take care of it, whatever it was, but Albus felt that he should at least make sure nothing serious had happened. He picked up his wand and hat from his desk and headed for the door.

As he stepped out into the dark hall a small person came flying around the corner in tears. It ran straight into Albus and bounced back, spluttering something incoherent. Albus knelt down.

"Miss Kershaw," he said gently. "What has happened?"

"Oh, Professor Dumbledore," the girl sobbed, "It's the Dark Mark - in Gryffindor Tower – "

Albus felt as though a cold brick had just been dropped into his stomach. All those children . . .

"Did you see the Death Eaters?" he questioned urgently.

"No - we didn't see anyone, but – "

"Where is the Dark Mark?" Albus said intensely.

The girl continued as if she hadn't heard him. "We heard noises, and we were frightened, so we went to get Professor McGonagall – "

"Where is Professor McGonagall?"

"That's when we found the Dark Mark, Professor – "

Albus seized the girl's shoulders and shook her, hard. "Where is Professor McGonagall?" he shouted.

"I don't know," the terrified girl babbled incoherently, "I never saw her - her door was locked, not that anyone touched it – that's where we found the Dark Mark, sir - burning in green fire on Professor McGonagall's door."

In later years Albus never remembered how he got up to Gryffindor Tower. He did, however, arrive there in record time, driven by fear for Minerva's life. The Gryffindor students who were milling around Minerva's door scattered as he approached. In a second he had taken in the skull burning in green fire on the wooden door, the emerald serpent protruding from its mouth like a grotesque tongue. Without stopping he blasted the door apart with his wand, knowing that it was the fastest and safest way to get inside. Students scattered, then crowded after him. Once inside he stopped, turned around, snapped at the students to go and get every teacher they could find, and forced himself forward.

The living room looked as it always did. The bedroom door was closed.

"Minerva?" Albus called, without much hope of receiving an answer. "Minerva, can you hear me? Are you here?" There was no sound. He pushed the door slowly open and stepped cautiously into Minerva's bedroom.

There was no one inside, not even the corpse Albus had been dreading. A set of deep blue robes lay folded on the bureau. Otherwise the room seemed as neat and tidy as ever.

Albus crossed the room in three long strides and reached for the bathroom door. It was locked.

"Alohomora," he whispered, and the knob turned in his hand.

The bathtub was empty, but there was a half-full container of bath salts sitting on the floor beside it. A used towel lay on the counter.

There were no signs of a struggle. Albus began to carefully, painstakingly, search the room. There was nothing. Whoever had been there had certainly covered their tracks well.

Several of Albus' staff rather timidly entered the room.

"What's happened?" they asked. "Where's Minerva? Is she – "

"She is not here," Albus said shortly. "No, not even her body. I believe she has been kidnapped."

"Kidnapped? But why - what purpose would it serve?"

"She was closest to me," Albus reminded them sharply. "She has information that could advance the Dark Side very far, and they know it." He turned and began to walk away, followed by Peter and Poppy Pomfrey.

"Why the Dark Mark, though?" Peter muttered.

"What?" Poppy said. She had not been listening; she had been lost in her own thoughts and feelings, for she had been Minerva's best female friend since their school days. Peter ignored her; he was watching the Headmaster intently. Albus' brows knitted together.

"Why indeed?" he murmured.

"What did you say?" Poppy demanded of her husband.

"I asked Albus why he thought they'd put the Dark Mark on the door." Poppy gave him a look as if to say, Why not? "Poppy, the Death Eaters have only ever used it before when they've killed."