She found Albus in his bedroom, sitting on his unmade bed, staring off into space. Minerva hesitated for a moment at the door.
Albus did not look like himself. He looked – defeated somehow. Or perhaps it was only grief. She could see the marks of tears around his blue eyes, which seemed at once dull and bitter. Minerva thought that there had been an overabundance of tears in their lives lately, but she wanted to shed more at the sight of his eyes like that. She touched his shoulder hesitantly, and he started, then stood up and turned to face her.
"Where have you been?" he asked. "I thought you would have been here long ago." There was a slight accusatory note in his voice, which Minerva instinctively rebelled against, but she looked into his eyes again and softened her words, for here before her was Dumbledore the man, not Dumbledore the famous wizard, and furthermore, he was a man stripped down and laid low by grief.
"I have been in Whitechapel," she said, "Watching Muggle children starve to death and men murdered for the change in their pockets. I have been mourning Lily and James in my own way, Albus – burying myself in the suffering of others so I wouldn't have to think of my own pain."
"I, too, have been mourning Lily and James," he said hoarsely, "and I, too, would like to forget my pain and guilt."
"Albus, don't be guilty," she said. "It was through no fault of yours that Lily and James died. It was through the fault of Sirius – "
"I offered to be Secret-Keeper," Albus said heavily. "James told me he wanted to use Sirius, and I didn't press it. If I would have kept after him – "
"He would have used Sirius anyway," said Minerva firmly. "They were like brothers."
Albus laughed bitterly. "Brothers," he repeated. He blinked furiously, and Minerva saw tears coming into his eyes again. He smothered them with anger. "If Voldemort hadn't been defeated last night I would have gone after him – when I heard that James and Lily were dead – "
"I'm sorry," Minerva said softly. "If I had known how you felt, I would have come back long before this. But you seemed so collected and in control of yourself when you left Harry with his aunt and uncle – "
"I had to be in control," Albus said roughly. "I was out in public, wasn't I? I couldn't lose my head in public. But here – Ah, Minerva – " She came into his arms, and he held her close to him, not a famous, all-powerful wizard, but just a man. A man who seemed half-mad with grief and guilt, a man who she loved and who loved her in return, a man with a man's needs and wants.
"We can talk about all this tomorrow," Minerva said soothingly. "There's no need to go through it all now. It can wait." She put up a hand and brushed the silver hair off his forehead. This was a time for comfort, for expressing sorrow and working out anger. Tomorrow there would be time enough to discuss things and decide what was to be done now.
"Albus," Minerva said gently. "What can I do for you?"
"Make me forget," he said hoarsely, tightening his arms around her. "Make me forget about James and Lily – " he kissed her hard on the mouth " – and Sirius – " he kissed her again "- and Voldemort – "
"Shhh," Minerva whispered. She put her hand up to his face again, and this time left it there. "Don't think about it," she said. "It can wait until tomorrow." Albus went down backwards on the bed, pulling her down on top of him. She let him kiss her for a moment, then untangled herself from his robes and sat up. He sat up with her, still holding her as if he were afraid to let go. Minerva gently pushed his arms away and stood up. She crossed the room and stood with her back to him. He stayed where he was.
"But there is no relief, is there?" she said, but still did not turn around. Albus sighed, regaining his self-control.
"I'm afraid not."
Minerva leaned her forehead against the wall. It felt cool next to her hot skin, and she drew in a deep breath, trying to pull herself together.
"There's no forgetting, either," she murmured. Albus stood up then. He straightened his robes and approached her from the back.
"I'm sorry," he said. Minerva turned around, a question on her face.
"Sorry?" she repeated.
"For losing control."
Minerva gave him the best smile she could muster. "Albus, I'm afraid your conscience is overactive."
"Overactive or not, I'm still sorry."
"For what?"
"For taking out my anger on you."
"Albus, for the love of Aurora, don't apologise. Grief does strange things to people. There are no hard feelings."
"I was angry," he insisted, "And I allowed myself to take it out on you."
Minerva gave a small laugh. "Albus, you may have thought you were taking out your anger on me, but, honestly, you did no harm."
"Could you just accept my apology?"
"If it makes you feel better," Minerva said, "I accept your apology."
"Thank you," he said, and then they lapsed into silence. Minerva absently ran her fingers through his long silver hair, and he sighed sadly.
"Well, there's nothing we can do tonight," he said finally. "We may as well get some sleep. Tomorrow will be a busy day."
"It already is tomorrow," Minerva replied, but she got up and went to get ready for bed. She heard Albus leave the room, but thought nothing of it. He was gone for no more than five minutes before he burst back into the room.
"Minerva!" he barked.
"Yes Albus?" She came out of the bathroom in her nightdress, her fingers fumbling at her bun.
"Get your robes back on. We're leaving in five minutes. We need to get to Hogsmeade and Apparate from there into London."
"Why – what's happened?" Minerva had thought the days of panic were over, but old habits die hard.
"It's the Ministry," he said. "They've caught Snape."