Elsewhere in the castle, another couple was not having such an idyllic evening. Poppy and Peter Pomfrey had been engaged in a vicious argument ever since dinner. They were now lying side by side in their bed, each of them stiff and cold, angry with each other and with themselves. However, somewhere deep inside, each was longing for the other's touch.
* * *
The next morning there was a new spring in Albus' step. Poppy Pomfrey observed it when she passed him in the hallway after breakfast. Peter Pomfrey noticed it when he met Albus for lunch, and afterwards he sought out his wife for the sole purpose of being with her, something he had not done in some time. Albus himself felt invincibly happy, as though not even Voldemort could pull him down out of the clouds. The love of a good woman, he felt, was a wonderful thing to have at any time, but particularly in these times of darkness. For the first time in longer than he cared to remember, in a respite from that darkness, he thought that life was truly good.
Minerva too, woke up in an intoxicatingly good mood. She ate a quick breakfast and decided to do a most disagreeable task that Albus had asked her to do some time ago, and which had been put off in the light of the much more serious Voldemort problems: performing a pregnancy test on the giant squid. It was a task that not only soaked her and took several hours, but left her with a sore shoulder and a limp that stuck with her for two whole weeks. She took the results to Albus after lunch, and, blushing ridiculously, informed him that their suspicions had been confirmed: there were going to be baby giant squids at Hogwarts.
So two months went by. The giant squid grew rounder by the day. Minerva and Albus came to be so close that they often could not tell where one ended and the other began. Their romance had to be kept secret from the staff and students, which was a strain, but they had always spent a lot of time together, and that helped. The school year began. Severus Snape became Albus' spy and returned to Voldemort at great personal risk. Minerva had grown to know him better, and she admired his courage. The Lestranges were turned over to the Ministry, tried for being Death Eaters, and sent to Azkaban. Their capture was credited to Alastor Moody, the best Auror to ever work against Voldemort. The Pomfreys argued constantly, most often about Peter's job as a Hit Wizard for the Ministry. Lily and James Potter started to discuss going into hiding. Voldemort's agents murdered and tortured and the wizarding world lived in fear.
But through it all Minerva and Albus were finding something in each other that each had thought they would never have again. Albus threw himself into his work against Voldemort with new energy, but always found time to be with Minerva. This method kept him more relaxed and enabled him to bring greater focus and perception to the fight against the Dark Lord. Minerva had taken over much of the running of the school. Between that and her classes she was often exhausted, but being with Albus was more energising to her than sleep.
The giant squid gave birth to her babies in late September, much to the delight of Rubeus Hagrid. Minerva and Albus went down to the lake to see them that night, under the starlight. They found them in a secluded corner: eight of them, all clustered around their mother. The small squids swan over to them cautiously, but backed away hurriedly when Minerva extended a hand to touch one.
"The miracle of birth never ceases to amaze me," she murmured. Albus looked at her, ready to agree, but something in her expression stopped him. She was chewing her bottom lip, and Albus saw, to his surprise, her eyes fill with tears.
"What is it?" he asked gently.
She could only shake her head. He put his arms around her and drew her near. She resisted at first, then relaxed against him and buried her face in his robes.
"I've always wanted to have a child," she said, her voice muffled against his shoulder. "But I –" Her voice broke, and he felt her give way to heartbroken sobs.
Albus gently stroked her hair, caressing the black locks.
"I – I can't – " she wept. "I can never – never have children – " her words dissolved. He gathered her to him more firmly, and she clung to him, her tears soaking his shoulder.
They stayed like that for a long time, until her sobs gave way to sniffles, and then Albus raised her face to his and kissed her cheeks, tasting her salty tears. He kissed her closed eyes, and she wrapped herself around him, seeking his mouth, trying to escape the dull ache of a deep sorrow that had plagued her for most of her adult life.
Eventually they lay back against the bank and gazed up at the sky.
"Why," Albus began hesitantly. "If you don't mind me asking – Why can't you bear children?"
Minerva sighed deeply, gathering her thoughts. "Of course I don't mind you asking, Albus. The painful part was telling you in the first place – I can talk about it now." She paused to find the words. "I won't go into the medical description of it – I'm not sure I could, to be honest with you. The doctors have fed me a bunch of jargon that I couldn't repeat to save my life, but basically what it all meant was that I don't ovulate."
There was silence as Albus considered this.
"I see," he said softly. "And there is no cure? Have you spoken with Poppy?"
"Of course. She says, and the doctors in London agree with her, that there is no known cure."
"I'm sorry," Albus said quietly.
Minerva nodded, her face turned away from him. There was silence for the space of several minutes.
"I suppose that's the reason I became a teacher," she said eventually. "To help shape young lives, you know. I suppose I thought it would make up for not having a child of my own."
"Does it?" Albus asked softly.
Minerva shook her head. "It just rubs it in, I'm afraid."
Albus hesitated for a moment before speaking again. "If you don't enjoy teaching," he said, "Don't let me hold you here. I want you to be happy."
"It's too late to leave now," Minerva said with a rueful grin. "Teaching is – how can I say this? – teaching is what I do. It's what I've done for most of my adult life, and even though there are times when I want nothing more than to be done with it, I know I would miss it if I quit. Besides, I've grown to really enjoy my colleagues over the years, and I've gotten too used to the luxury of living at Hogwarts to leave it now." She smiled in the starlight. "And, I think, I've grown to love you too much to ever leave."
* * *
"When we were married you promised me that you were going to be moved to another department!" Poppy and Peter were arguing again, about his occupation as Hit Wizard.
"Poppy, I've told you before, taking any of the available positions at the Ministry would mean cutting my salary in half." Peter sounded weary, as if they had been through this too many times before.
"Money isn't everything!" Poppy shrieked. "I don't care if you lose half your salary! It's not like we're poor, you know, Peter. I'm making good money from Hogwarts."
"Poppy, we're going to want to retire eventually. We need the money I make for a good retirement. Do you want to have to work for the rest of your life?"
"I'd rather work my whole life than have my husband continue to be a paid murderer!"
Peter winced at the blunt term his wife used. "Poppy, do you think I like having to go out there and kill fellow human beings? Do you think I do this because I enjoy it?"
"How do I know?" Poppy shouted. "How am I to know you don't enjoy your job? You certainly haven't done anything to get out of it!"
Peter was fast losing his temper. "What would you have me do?" he shouted, his voice rising to meet Poppy's. "Would you have me quit my job and take some other low-paying, no-benefit job to satisfy your conscience? Tell me, Poppy, what do you want?"
Poppy's face crumpled. She sank down onto the bed. "All I want is you," she said, her voice quiet now, and Peter could hear the tears in it. He went to her side.
"Please don't cry," he said, putting his arms around her. "I didn't mean to upset you – "
"You have," Poppy sniffled. "You've been upsetting me for most of our married life, Peter. All I've ever wanted was to be married to someone who doesn't make their living by killing other people, even if they are Dark wizards."
"Why don't you divorce me then," Peter said roughly.
Poppy began to cry in earnest. "Because I love you, Peter. I don't want to live without you. But I'm tired of wondering who you've killed today when you come home late. I'm tired of knowing you're out there somewhere murdering someone while I'm working to heal someone else. I can't stand it anymore!"
Peter was choking up too. "I don't know what to do, Poppy," he said helplessly. I need my job. And the Ministry needs me. I can't resign, not while Voldemort is in power." He rested his head on his wife's bosom. "I don't want to kill anymore, Poppy," he whispered. "I'm tired of taking lives, and I'm tired of risking my own life to do it." She put her arms around him.
"Oh, Peter – "
At that moment there was a loud beeping noise from across the room. Peter raised his head. His wand sat on the bureau. The end of it was glowing red.
"The Ministry needs me," he said, getting up. He picked up a cloak, his wand, and a hat, then turned to his wife. There were tears streaming silently down her face.
"Don't go – Peter, please," she said brokenly.
"I have to," he said, and put his hat on. He tucked his wand through his belt and straightened his shoulders. "When I come back, I promise I will look for another job."
Poppy flung her arms around him. "Peter, don't," she sobbed. "Don't leave me." She held on to him tightly, as if she would never let him go.
"Be brave, Poppy," he told her. "You're a Gryffindor, remember? I'll be back – possibly not tonight, but tomorrow morning at the latest. Don't wait up for me." He kissed her gently on the cheek, then turned away from her and left without a backward glance; tall and proud, wrapped in courage like another cloak. Poppy put up a hand to touch her cheek where he had kissed her and looked at the door that her husband had just disappeared through. It was quite a while before she moved.