4. Several Discussions
A/N: Here it is at last. Several scenes were difficult for me to write and I'd like to thank Child-of-the-Dawn, Cielita, CEA, and Filodea for their advice and help on this chapter.
Once the door had closed behind them, Sandra turned to face Ryan. "Now, what's this about Albus?"
He ran a broad hand through his thick black hair. "I don't mean to sound jealous or possessive, but he _was_ your first husband after all. You might still have some feelings for him after all these years."
"Oh, Ryan." She gave a sigh that was both exasperated and fond. "I was married to Albus once, yes, but I am married to _you_ now, not Albus. He is no more than a brother to me now."
He smiled, his hands coming up to rest on her hips. "I'm glad for that, but I couldn't help worrying a little."
She wrapped her arms as far around his waist as she could. "You sired two children by me, Ryan. Does that tell you anything about which man is first in my heart now?"
"Well, I could use a little convincing," he mused, a mischievous glint in his dark eyes.
She grinned and stood on tiptoe to meet his descending head in a warm kiss.
* * *
"Good morning, Minerva, I trust you slept well?" Albus greeted his Deputy one morning.
"Yes, Albus, I slept fine," she replied with a slight smile as she tucked her hand into the crook of the arm he offered to her. Since their talk the night Sandra and Tracey had appeared in England two weeks before, something had changed in their relationship, though Minerva had yet to quite figure out what the change was. "And you?"
He smiled as they walked through the corridors of the school. "I slept fine as well."
"I'm glad to hear it," she replied, content with his company. "Very glad."
He chuckled as they descended a flight of stairs. "I'm glad that you're glad."
She sighed and rolled her eyes. "Don't start that again, Albus."
"Start what, my dear?" His voice was innocent, but his bright blue eyes twinkled with mischief.
"Albus." Her tone of voice was stern, but amusement glinted in her dark green eyes. "You know _exactly_ what I mean."
"I'm afraid I don't, my dear." He began to hum as they walked along the next corridor.
She shook her head. They reached the next staircase and descended it while he continued to hum like a big bumblebee. They had started down the next corridor when she finally recognized the song. "Is that 'Scotland, the Brave,' Albus?" He looked down at her and winked. Her lips slowly curved into a smile. "It is, isn't it?"
"Yes, my dear, it is," he admitted as they started down the marble staircase that led to the entrance hall.
She stopped on the stairs. He took a few more steps, and then turned back to look at her, now eye to eye. "Any particular reason you chose that song?"
He shrugged, a smile twitching at the corners of his mustache. "I thought it appropriate."
"Thank you, Albus," she replied as they continued down the marble staircase.
"You're welcome, my dear," he countered as they reached the bottom of the staircase. "You should try it sometime."
"Try what? Humming?" she inquired as they started across the entrance hall to the Great Hall.
"Yes." He opened the doors to the Great Hall for her. "It's quite relaxing."
She preceded him into the Great Hall. "Sounding like a bumblebee doesn't appeal to me, Albus."
"You, my dear, need to learn how to have more fun," he commented as they made their way to the round table sitting in the middle of the hall, where the members of the staff who'd remained at the castle during the summer holidays were waiting for them.
"I've been trying to tell her that for _years_, Albus," Xiomara Hooch volunteered as Albus held Minerva's chair out for her. "She refuses."
"Your idea of fun, Xiomara, and mine do not coincide," Minerva retorted dryly as Albus took his seat beside her.
Albus held up his hands and the two friends broke off their argument. "Shall we eat, then?"
* * *
The doorbell rang and Sandra navigated an obstacle course of half-unpacked boxes to answer the door. She smiled when she saw who the visitor was. "Albus, come on in."
"Thank you, Sandra," he replied, entering the flat. He wore a pair of khaki trousers and light blue polo shirt. If it hadn't been for his long beard and hair, he would have easily passed for a Muggle.
She closed the door behind him. "What brings you here?"
"I thought I'd offer my assistance in unpacking," he told her as he followed her around the boxes and into the living room.
"That's very nice of you, Albus," she countered, pausing in the middle of the room, "but I think we have a handle on everything."
"Tracey! No!" Ryan's voice attracted their attention. Almost without thinking, Sandra followed the sound of her husband's voice, which had been quickly been followed by a crash and a cry from Tracey. Sandra found the two in the girls' bedroom. Lynda was sitting, wide-eyed, on the only assembled bed, while the other bed lay in pieces against the opposite wall. Tracey was sitting on the floor, one foot out in front of her. Ryan was bent over Tracey's foot, gently prodding it. "It doesn't look that bad, Tracey. Just a bruise."
Sandra walked over to the pair. "What happened here?"
Ryan smiled sheepishly up at his wife. "I had just finished putting Lynda's bed together when Tracey decided she wanted to try putting hers together by herself."
The child's smile was sheepish as well as she took up the story. "I grabbed the headboard, but it slipped and hit my foot."
"Oh, Tracey." Sandra's voice was fondly exasperated as she hugged her daughter. "You're far too impatient at times."
Ryan smiled at his wife, but then his gaze moved past her to the bedroom doorway. "Who are you?"
Sandra turned while Tracey peeked under her mother's arm. Albus stood in the bedroom doorway, looking uncertain. "Father! Hi!"
"Hello, Tracey." Albus smiled at his daughter.
Sandra felt Ryan straighten up behind and turned to look at him. She couldn't quite interpret the look on his face and quickly laid a hand on his forearm. "Ryan, this is Albus Dumbledore, Tracey's father." She turned to Albus. "Albus, this is my husband, Ryan Andrews."
"Hello, Mr. Andrews." Albus stepped forward to shake Ryan's hand.
After a few moments, Ryan shook the proffered hand. "Mr. Dumbledore."
"How's the foot, Tracey?" Sandra asked, trying desperately to break the tension that had settled in the room. It seemed that, despite her reassurances, Ryan was still suspicious of Albus. "Do you think you can walk?"
Tracey carefully got to her feet. "Yep! Good as new!"
"Good, why don't we go to the kitchen for some lunch?" Sandra suggested.
"Yay!" Lynda scrambled down from her bed. Tracey caught her hand and ran with her from the room.
Sandra looked from one man to the other. "Ryan? Albus?"
"We'll be fine, Sandra, go take care of the girls," Ryan told his wife, not looking away from Albus.
Glancing from one to the other one last time, Sandra reluctantly left the room. "I gather you wish to speak privately with me?"
"Yes," Ryan nodded. "Sandra has assured me that she loves you only as a brother and no more. I can't be sure of the same for you."
Albus sighed and waved his wand at the pieces of Tracey's bed. In moments, it had assembled itself, ready for her to sleep in it. "While only eleven years have passed for Sandra, over 130 have passed for myself." The bright blue eyes met Ryan's dark ones. "She is a sister now. No more than that."
"How can I be sure?" Ryan asked suspiciously, his hands clenched into fists. "What assurance do I have that you won't try to take her back?"
Albus folded his hands together, long fingers entwining. "Because another has taken her place in my heart."
* * *
"I do not like this news, my dear," Albus told Minerva several days later.
She looked up from signing Hogwarts letters. "What news is that, Albus?"
"A Muggle has disappeared," Albus explained, offering a Muggle paper to Minerva.
She took it and read the article he indicated. "Little Hangleton? Isn't that where..."
"Tom Riddle's father lived?" Albus finished the question when her voice trailed off. "Yes. It is too close to Bertha Jorkins' disappearance to be a coincidence."
Minerva set the paper aside so she could continue signing Hogwarts letters. "She was in Ludo Bagman's department, was she not?"
Albus nodded, rising to walk to the window. "Yes, the Department of Magical Games and Sports. This will not be an easy year, for them and the Department of International Magical Cooperation, what with the Quidditch World Cup and the Triwizard Tournament."
"I don't know why they decided to hold a Triwizard Tournament this year, of all years," Minerva answered with a disdainful sniff. "After all, they--"
"It is not our decision, Minerva," Albus interrupted gently, turning from the window to look at his Deputy. "It is theirs, though I admit that I wish they had had better timing."
"At least the new rules will prevent the younger students from being harmed," Minerva pointed out, signing letters with more force than necessary.
Albus nodded, crossing to her side. "Indeed."
After a few moments, she looked up at him. "Is there something you wished to request of me, Albus?"
"Actually, there was, my dear," he replied, summoning a chair and sitting down beside her. "Could you please go with Tracey, Sandra, and Ryan to Diagon Alley?"
She studied him closely. "I can understand why you would want someone to go with them, but why me? Why not you? Tracey is _your_ daughter."
He sighed and folded his hands into his voluminous sleeves. "Ryan is suspicious of me."
"Suspicious of you?" Minerva asked, surprised. "Why?"
Albus' gaze turned to the window once more. "Because he fears I will take Sandra away from him."
Minerva frowned. "Why would you? She is happy with him. She is more of a sister to you than a wife now."
"Ryan wants to believe it, that much I know," Albus replied, his gaze still on the window, "but he needs proof, assurance that what I have told him is true."
Minerva gazed up at him, wondering what he was getting at. "What proof can you give him, Albus? How can you show him that your regard for Sandra has changed?" His gaze moved from the window and locked with hers. "I told him that someone else has taken her place in my heart."
"Someone else?" Minerva asked, feeling as if an iron fist was squeezing her heart. "Who is it?"
He held her gaze for a long moment before leaning forward and kissing her.
A/N: Here it is at last. Several scenes were difficult for me to write and I'd like to thank Child-of-the-Dawn, Cielita, CEA, and Filodea for their advice and help on this chapter.
Once the door had closed behind them, Sandra turned to face Ryan. "Now, what's this about Albus?"
He ran a broad hand through his thick black hair. "I don't mean to sound jealous or possessive, but he _was_ your first husband after all. You might still have some feelings for him after all these years."
"Oh, Ryan." She gave a sigh that was both exasperated and fond. "I was married to Albus once, yes, but I am married to _you_ now, not Albus. He is no more than a brother to me now."
He smiled, his hands coming up to rest on her hips. "I'm glad for that, but I couldn't help worrying a little."
She wrapped her arms as far around his waist as she could. "You sired two children by me, Ryan. Does that tell you anything about which man is first in my heart now?"
"Well, I could use a little convincing," he mused, a mischievous glint in his dark eyes.
She grinned and stood on tiptoe to meet his descending head in a warm kiss.
* * *
"Good morning, Minerva, I trust you slept well?" Albus greeted his Deputy one morning.
"Yes, Albus, I slept fine," she replied with a slight smile as she tucked her hand into the crook of the arm he offered to her. Since their talk the night Sandra and Tracey had appeared in England two weeks before, something had changed in their relationship, though Minerva had yet to quite figure out what the change was. "And you?"
He smiled as they walked through the corridors of the school. "I slept fine as well."
"I'm glad to hear it," she replied, content with his company. "Very glad."
He chuckled as they descended a flight of stairs. "I'm glad that you're glad."
She sighed and rolled her eyes. "Don't start that again, Albus."
"Start what, my dear?" His voice was innocent, but his bright blue eyes twinkled with mischief.
"Albus." Her tone of voice was stern, but amusement glinted in her dark green eyes. "You know _exactly_ what I mean."
"I'm afraid I don't, my dear." He began to hum as they walked along the next corridor.
She shook her head. They reached the next staircase and descended it while he continued to hum like a big bumblebee. They had started down the next corridor when she finally recognized the song. "Is that 'Scotland, the Brave,' Albus?" He looked down at her and winked. Her lips slowly curved into a smile. "It is, isn't it?"
"Yes, my dear, it is," he admitted as they started down the marble staircase that led to the entrance hall.
She stopped on the stairs. He took a few more steps, and then turned back to look at her, now eye to eye. "Any particular reason you chose that song?"
He shrugged, a smile twitching at the corners of his mustache. "I thought it appropriate."
"Thank you, Albus," she replied as they continued down the marble staircase.
"You're welcome, my dear," he countered as they reached the bottom of the staircase. "You should try it sometime."
"Try what? Humming?" she inquired as they started across the entrance hall to the Great Hall.
"Yes." He opened the doors to the Great Hall for her. "It's quite relaxing."
She preceded him into the Great Hall. "Sounding like a bumblebee doesn't appeal to me, Albus."
"You, my dear, need to learn how to have more fun," he commented as they made their way to the round table sitting in the middle of the hall, where the members of the staff who'd remained at the castle during the summer holidays were waiting for them.
"I've been trying to tell her that for _years_, Albus," Xiomara Hooch volunteered as Albus held Minerva's chair out for her. "She refuses."
"Your idea of fun, Xiomara, and mine do not coincide," Minerva retorted dryly as Albus took his seat beside her.
Albus held up his hands and the two friends broke off their argument. "Shall we eat, then?"
* * *
The doorbell rang and Sandra navigated an obstacle course of half-unpacked boxes to answer the door. She smiled when she saw who the visitor was. "Albus, come on in."
"Thank you, Sandra," he replied, entering the flat. He wore a pair of khaki trousers and light blue polo shirt. If it hadn't been for his long beard and hair, he would have easily passed for a Muggle.
She closed the door behind him. "What brings you here?"
"I thought I'd offer my assistance in unpacking," he told her as he followed her around the boxes and into the living room.
"That's very nice of you, Albus," she countered, pausing in the middle of the room, "but I think we have a handle on everything."
"Tracey! No!" Ryan's voice attracted their attention. Almost without thinking, Sandra followed the sound of her husband's voice, which had been quickly been followed by a crash and a cry from Tracey. Sandra found the two in the girls' bedroom. Lynda was sitting, wide-eyed, on the only assembled bed, while the other bed lay in pieces against the opposite wall. Tracey was sitting on the floor, one foot out in front of her. Ryan was bent over Tracey's foot, gently prodding it. "It doesn't look that bad, Tracey. Just a bruise."
Sandra walked over to the pair. "What happened here?"
Ryan smiled sheepishly up at his wife. "I had just finished putting Lynda's bed together when Tracey decided she wanted to try putting hers together by herself."
The child's smile was sheepish as well as she took up the story. "I grabbed the headboard, but it slipped and hit my foot."
"Oh, Tracey." Sandra's voice was fondly exasperated as she hugged her daughter. "You're far too impatient at times."
Ryan smiled at his wife, but then his gaze moved past her to the bedroom doorway. "Who are you?"
Sandra turned while Tracey peeked under her mother's arm. Albus stood in the bedroom doorway, looking uncertain. "Father! Hi!"
"Hello, Tracey." Albus smiled at his daughter.
Sandra felt Ryan straighten up behind and turned to look at him. She couldn't quite interpret the look on his face and quickly laid a hand on his forearm. "Ryan, this is Albus Dumbledore, Tracey's father." She turned to Albus. "Albus, this is my husband, Ryan Andrews."
"Hello, Mr. Andrews." Albus stepped forward to shake Ryan's hand.
After a few moments, Ryan shook the proffered hand. "Mr. Dumbledore."
"How's the foot, Tracey?" Sandra asked, trying desperately to break the tension that had settled in the room. It seemed that, despite her reassurances, Ryan was still suspicious of Albus. "Do you think you can walk?"
Tracey carefully got to her feet. "Yep! Good as new!"
"Good, why don't we go to the kitchen for some lunch?" Sandra suggested.
"Yay!" Lynda scrambled down from her bed. Tracey caught her hand and ran with her from the room.
Sandra looked from one man to the other. "Ryan? Albus?"
"We'll be fine, Sandra, go take care of the girls," Ryan told his wife, not looking away from Albus.
Glancing from one to the other one last time, Sandra reluctantly left the room. "I gather you wish to speak privately with me?"
"Yes," Ryan nodded. "Sandra has assured me that she loves you only as a brother and no more. I can't be sure of the same for you."
Albus sighed and waved his wand at the pieces of Tracey's bed. In moments, it had assembled itself, ready for her to sleep in it. "While only eleven years have passed for Sandra, over 130 have passed for myself." The bright blue eyes met Ryan's dark ones. "She is a sister now. No more than that."
"How can I be sure?" Ryan asked suspiciously, his hands clenched into fists. "What assurance do I have that you won't try to take her back?"
Albus folded his hands together, long fingers entwining. "Because another has taken her place in my heart."
* * *
"I do not like this news, my dear," Albus told Minerva several days later.
She looked up from signing Hogwarts letters. "What news is that, Albus?"
"A Muggle has disappeared," Albus explained, offering a Muggle paper to Minerva.
She took it and read the article he indicated. "Little Hangleton? Isn't that where..."
"Tom Riddle's father lived?" Albus finished the question when her voice trailed off. "Yes. It is too close to Bertha Jorkins' disappearance to be a coincidence."
Minerva set the paper aside so she could continue signing Hogwarts letters. "She was in Ludo Bagman's department, was she not?"
Albus nodded, rising to walk to the window. "Yes, the Department of Magical Games and Sports. This will not be an easy year, for them and the Department of International Magical Cooperation, what with the Quidditch World Cup and the Triwizard Tournament."
"I don't know why they decided to hold a Triwizard Tournament this year, of all years," Minerva answered with a disdainful sniff. "After all, they--"
"It is not our decision, Minerva," Albus interrupted gently, turning from the window to look at his Deputy. "It is theirs, though I admit that I wish they had had better timing."
"At least the new rules will prevent the younger students from being harmed," Minerva pointed out, signing letters with more force than necessary.
Albus nodded, crossing to her side. "Indeed."
After a few moments, she looked up at him. "Is there something you wished to request of me, Albus?"
"Actually, there was, my dear," he replied, summoning a chair and sitting down beside her. "Could you please go with Tracey, Sandra, and Ryan to Diagon Alley?"
She studied him closely. "I can understand why you would want someone to go with them, but why me? Why not you? Tracey is _your_ daughter."
He sighed and folded his hands into his voluminous sleeves. "Ryan is suspicious of me."
"Suspicious of you?" Minerva asked, surprised. "Why?"
Albus' gaze turned to the window once more. "Because he fears I will take Sandra away from him."
Minerva frowned. "Why would you? She is happy with him. She is more of a sister to you than a wife now."
"Ryan wants to believe it, that much I know," Albus replied, his gaze still on the window, "but he needs proof, assurance that what I have told him is true."
Minerva gazed up at him, wondering what he was getting at. "What proof can you give him, Albus? How can you show him that your regard for Sandra has changed?" His gaze moved from the window and locked with hers. "I told him that someone else has taken her place in my heart."
"Someone else?" Minerva asked, feeling as if an iron fist was squeezing her heart. "Who is it?"
He held her gaze for a long moment before leaning forward and kissing her.