Falling Into an Arrangement
Two evenings later, Nigel Crampton was out of the race. The man had not a clue how many times Minerva had mentally dismembered him during their attendance at the theater. His every snobbish observation was answered with the ladylike civility that only a consummate actress could command. The man had spoiled the theater for her. It would be months before she could be persuaded to attend another play.
The following evening Atticus Dimworth fared little better. The man was a bore and not even an original bore. Minerva tried to encourage some cleverness out of the man but every sentence that came out of his mouth, she could swear, came out of a textbook. All through dinner, Minerva kept a portion of her attention - a portion that grew smaller as the evening wore on - on her date. The rest of the time she inwardly tallied through everything else that needed to be readied before the start of term.
Thinking of Hogwarts invariably led to thoughts of its headmaster. Due to her late outings, Albus had changed their daily meeting schedule from the morning to the evenings. It wasn't something they planned. It just seemed to happen that he would find her in the kitchens or she would find him still awake in his office when she returned.
Over tea, cocoa and biscuits, they would go over the tasks for the next day. Afterwards, since they were usually too keyed up to call an end to their meeting, they would discuss literature, politics or whatever article was on the front page of the Prophet that day. It was, they both agreed, a pleasant way to end a busy day.
Before she left the restaurant, she made sure to order a decadent chocolate dessert to bring back for Albus. She asked to have two spoons included. After all, she reasoned, she did owe him for the ginger newts, didn't she?
The next day during breakfast Minerva received an owl post. Her colleagues gave each other knowing looks assuming it was a love note of some kind. They were shocked to see Minerva tear the post into pieces then set the small pile aflame; post ala flambé as it were. She then took her meal and left the hall. Poppy and Albus exchanged a worried glance.
"Talk to her, Albus." Poppy began.
"Me? Considering that her problems stem from my gender I hardly think she would welcome any further interference from me." Albus replied.
"Broach the topic gently then."
"Poppy, I have not discussed this particular topic with her since we had that argument in her office. My opinion has not changed."
"Albus, because you are a completely impartial party, your words will have more merit than mine. I am too close." Poppy declared. "We can't discuss it objectively."
"Well, if she would lead with her heart instead of ... of settling for what life has dealt her, she would not be in a such a state." Albus went back to reading the Daily Prophet.
After a few minutes, he heard Poppy gasp beside him. "Turn to the editorial page. Letters to the editor."
There in an anonymous letter to the editor was someone questioning the ease in which Minerva had risen from a simple teacher to deputy headmistress in a mere handful of years. The writer emphasized Minerva's age and looks. Albus crumpled the paper. "This ... this drivel is why she is so upset!"
Albus nearly ran out of the hall tearing the paper into shards as he walked out. "Anonymous is another word for coward! Cretins!"
In hindsight, it was not one of his better ideas. What he did could not even rightly be called an idea. It was more an impulse driven by righteous conviction and towering anger. So strong an impulse as to make him forgot the discipline and honorable conduct he had spent a lifetime perfecting. He used his powers against those weaker than himself without hesitation or remorse.
Albus apparated to the headquarters of the Daily Prophet. He swept pass the receptionist and confronted the chief editor in his office. He demanded a retraction of the letter and a formal apology. He was refused. He demanded to speak with all the paper's editors. He was refused again. The editor heatedly began to declare that the paper had every right to print what it did citing freedom of the press. The editor then made the near fatal mistake of insinuating that the letter had hit a nerve with the headmaster.
"Can't handle the truth coming out, can you?"
"You will be silent!"
"She's a handsome woman. No innocent maid from what I hear and -"
With energy crackling all around him, Albus Dumbledore demonstrated why he was the greatest wizard of the age with two quick flicks of his wand. All noise at the busy newsroom was silenced. People tried to speak but no sound came from their lips. The entire building - every office, printing shop and loading dock - was silenced. Everyone looked at each other. Their panic grew with every passing second. Many eyed the furious wizard and hid under their desks.
The chief editor realizing that discretion was the better part of journalistic valor tried to escape the room but he found himself flying through the air towards the large conference room. He was dropped roughly into a chair. Around him other editors were plummeting from the air into chairs or the floor. Unable to speak, they could only use their eyes and hands to express their confusion. Soon every editor, from the highest to the lowest, was in attendance. Some sat while others simply stood but all were filled with dread.
Albus strode in. He could sense the people's fear heavy in the air. For once, his heart rejoiced in the fear. He approached the conference table and looked at each one slowly as if committing each face to memory. Few could hold his terrible gaze. He looked at the chief editor last. "There is freedom of the press. When innocent people are victimized by that freedom, then it becomes abuse. Innuendo is not news. Gossip is not remarkable. Slander is unforgivable!"
Albus snapped a finger. A portly man was yanked from his chair to a standing position. "You will print an apology in the next edition today."
Another snap of fingers and an editor was dragged across the room to stand before the wizard. "You will print a retraction of that odious letter also today."
Albus fixed the chief editor with hard look. The editor visibly swallowed. "On any article or story involving my school and my staff, you will check your facts and sources ruthlessly or I will want to know why not."
The editor nodded. As soon as Albus apparated away, noise and voice returned to the Daily Prophet. The editor once his panic attack had subsided drafted a letters of complaint to the Board of Governors and the Ministry of Magic.
Albus' visit to the Daily Prophet was news on page one, two and three the following day. The Board of Governors declined to make a comment. The Minister of Magic could not be reached for comment being suddenly out of the country. Albus, temper cooled, forgot about the whole incident. The staff was more interested in the display of bad behavior on the part of their dignified headmaster than they were of any romantic rumors. Poppy was highly amused but Minerva was mortified. She could not look Albus in the eye for the rest of the day and stayed in her rooms.
She made multiple copies of the husband list then repeatedly tore each one apart and fed the pieces to the fire. It was this sight that greeted Poppy when she came for a visit that night.
"Give it a few days and people will forget about it." Poppy advised making sure she sat far enough away from the roaring flames.
"That may be but I won't forget." Minerva slumped into a chair. "I've made Albus a laughingstock. I should have listened to him. How could I do this to him? The Board of Governors is even now probably pressing him for my resignation."
"For the love of Merlin, it was THEM that put you in this situation. One should not throw stones in glass houses and all that."
"Don't you see? This is exactly the situation that Cecil said would happen. This is what we were trying to avoid." Minerva buried her head in a pillow. "What do I do now? How do I make amends?"
In his office, Albus was asking himself the same questions. On his desk lay a letter from his brother Aberforth. It had a mere three sentences: Congratulations on falling in love, Albus. Only you would take defending your lady's honor to such extremes. When is the wedding?
Albus had at first laughed hysterically at Aberforth's presumption. Then as the minutes ticked by he sobered. Love?! Not possible. I've shown no interest in her in that way, none at all. Albus drummed his fingers on his desk. We have a strictly professional relationship, don't we?
A familiar knock on his door interrupted his thoughts. Minerva came in not with her usual confident stride but slower, almost timidly. "I know it's late but I wanted to give you this now. I don't think it can wait."
Minerva held a letter out to him. It was her resignation letter. Albus was taken by surprise by the sudden sharp pain in his chest. Albus looked at her and saw her clearly for the first time. This was the woman who understood him best, sweet tooth and all. Her smiles chased his darkest moods away. This was the woman who made every day complete. And she knew how to make his cocoa just right. This woman is leaving over my dead body.
Minerva grew concerned. She could see that Albus was not taking her news well. Beads of perspiration formed on his brow. His skin was clammy to the touch, his breathing shallow. His eyes were dazed and unfocused.
"Albus, I'm going to get Poppy. Just stay calm and -" Minerva said.
He stood up quickly. "I'm fine, really. It is just a shock, this letter, just a shock."
"I'm sorry. I didn't want you to be forced to fire me. I wanted to leave on my own terms."
He grasped both her shoulders then turned her so she exchanged places. He motioned for her to sit down.
Albus kneeled in front of her and looked at her earnestly. "Why leave? Is it the school?"
"Of course not! I've come to think of Hogwarts as my home. I don't want to leave."
"Do you feel inadequate to performing the duties of my deputy?"
Minerva graced him with a wry smile. "I could do it in my sleep."
"Then I can only conclude that your leaving is because of me. Am I that much of a tyrant?"
A peal of soft laughter came from her lips. "Only if I were holding a bag of lemon drops that you desperately wanted."
Albus laughed at the mental image. "I would be lost without you, my dear. You can have no doubt of that."
Minerva sniffed and set her face to calm. "I don't want to leave you. But I can't stand by doing nothing as people say and write such horrible things. I want to fight back but that would be useless."
"I agree. So, we will simply have to give the gossipmongers even more to talk about." Minerva looked confused but Albus had never felt more certain in his life. He took both her hands into his and said very solemnly. "Add me to your list, Minerva."
Minerva stood up and pulled her hands from Albus' hands. "I won't ... can't let you sacrifice yourself this way."
Albus stood up and faced her. "It would not be a sacrifice."
"You want true love, Albus. I don't know if I can give you that."
He rang his fingers down her cheek and traced her jaw line. "Perhaps not now but in time. Is that not how arranged marriages evolve?"
"It would not be fair to you. You'll grow to despise me."
Albus continued unheeding of her words. "I have grown to care for you, very much. I want you here by my side. Imagine, the two of us working side by side as one."
Minerva bit her lower lip. "I'll ... I'll marry Cecil then I can stay and be your deputy. No one can say anything then."
Albus brushed his lips against hers. The touch was so light that had she not kept her eyes open during the kiss, she would have doubted it had ever occurred. It did happen and it was pleasantly unexpected. One of his hands pressed against her back and drew her closer against him. "Give us a chance, Minerva."
He kissed her again. This time it was no light caress on her lips. He kissed with intent. Her lips parted under his persistent demand. He teased her with his tongue. She responded by pressing herself into him clutching tightly at his robes. He left her lips to rain kisses on her neck and ears. "Have dinner with me tomorrow night."
"Albus, this is not -"
The third kiss robbed her of breath. He nibbled on her lower lip leaving them swollen and wet. He plundered her mouth to suck on her tongue. An arm pulled her to him - belly to belly, thigh to thigh. A hand cupped her breast kneading gently but insistently until her nipples hardened. He pulled away from her lips to ask, "Dinner, yes?"
"I think ... I think I can fit dinner on the calendar." Minerva wrapped both arms around his neck tangling her fingers in his hair. This time she kissed him with more than a fair bit of lust on her part. She ended the kiss reluctantly. On unsteady legs she walked to the door. She turned and smiled shyly at him. "Until tomorrow night."