Chapter Sixteen

The two next, Summer months passed in considerable peace. The Dark Lord kept unusually quiet- and though Albus thought it his task to warn the people around him, especially the Order, that this was not a good sign, he secretly was glad about it too. His wife now started the second term of her pregnancy- and though he couldn't but adore the slight swelling her belly started to show, she herself was highly irritated by it. Having been a rather thin woman all her life, she was used to slipping through about everything without the slightest hindrance, but now, she actually had to ask people to shove their chairs aside a bit when she wanted to take her place at the breakfast table. And what frustrated her even more- those people obeyed immediately, even pulling back her chair for her. And okay- she'd gotten used to Albus doing that- strange kind of eccentric gentleman he was!- but those well-meant gestures, along with the worried inquiries after her health, gave her a highly uncomfortable feeling. She'd always been independent- on her own, strong and not needing anyone for anything, just like the tabby she was.

And now it had all changed; She was delighted about the child she would give birth to- a little Albus or, as her husband kept on declaring, a mini-Minerva. She did enjoy the even more than usual tender attentions of her husband- the way he asked her how she felt, half way during meetings, the way she could rest her head against his shoulder as she read, late at night- the way she could finally sit next to him and didn't have to suppress her urge to just hold his hand at times. Yes, she thought all those things somewhat silly too- but they were so completely Albus that she couldn't but love them.

Less agreeable- but oh so predictable as well, naturally...- were Molly's various attempts to make her take a bit of rest, especially in the early hours of the afternoon. She had apparently problems with Minerva's total hate of resting during daylight hours- but she couldn't change it, as she after a few weeks realized and finally gave up. It was true- Minerva's always never seen the point in lying down while the sun was still out and about. Even as a child, when she'd felt ill, she'd rather sit up in the sofa with a book, and at least pretend to read. Even when the letters danced in front of her eyes, that thin girl with her black hair and her glasses wouldn't show weakness, would never show weakness.

And for some reason, neither would the middle-aged woman, still with the black hair and still with the glasses do so.

And yet she knew that it would be hard- very hard- nearly impossible- to keep her and the Headmaster's relationship a secret once they'd returned at Hogwarts. September 1st was coming dangerously close, and the Deputy Headmistress found herself not being able- and not wanting either!- to hide the obvious bulge in her robes- there where the little old coot, as she had lovingly nicknamed her son or daughter, had made itself a nest. So the only solution was, naturally, to tell the whole school. And for some reason, she was convinced that her husband would have his doubts about that- and now she could be highly convincing if she wanted to, but still.

The right question on the right time was highly important now, she knew- and though she was a Gryffindor to the core, Minerva Caitríona McGonagall could be a damn sly little cat if she wanted to. This mental remark of herself made Minerva grin.

Oh damn yes- she could.

The right time came sooner than she'd thought it'd come. As they were both sitting on the couch in their private rooms, her head leaning cosily against his shoulder, both reading in the same book- Pride and Prejudice, the favourite of both of them- Minerva knew that it was now or never.

"Albus?"

She didn't even remove her head from his shoulder- she was way too comfortable there, one of her various cat-like traits.

"Mmh... yes, my dear?"

"Can we tell the school?"

She knew this was most probably the wrong approach- not very Slytherin of you, Minerva, she reproached herself- but she didn't feel like concealing the truth. After all, this was what she'd wanted to ask all along, and she looked up at him, eyes nearly pleading as she awaited his answer. He simply sighed and looked back at her.

"Minerva, you know that's dangerous, and..."

Oh if only he'd known- if only he'd seen that pregnancy hormones accompanied by her already infamous Scottish temper were no pretty combination.

She sat up and stared at him, cat-like eyes greener than ever, her lips clenched tightly together yet still producing a highly satisfactory amount of sound.

"Albus Dumbledore, if you think that I'm going to use optical illusion magic on ALL MY STUDENTS, then you're mistaken! I want to look at my husband in public and NOT BE afraid that I will give away something! I want to hold my child when it's born and receive my Gryffindors as visitors. I WANT TO BE ABLE TO BLOODY SNOG YOU IN PUBLIC!"

She'd stood up whilst exclaiming this last sentence- and was honestly completely unprepared for her husband's hands dragging her onto his lap, pulling her into what was and felt like a highly acceptable snog indeed!

Surprised beyond reason and terribly flustered, Minerva found herself five minutes later gasping for breath, staring incredulously into her husband's bright blue eyes as he simply smiled at her and shrugged his shoulders.

"You don't know how adorable you looked, my dear."

That was the last sentence spoken for a long, long time.

But Minerva knew she'd won.