Chapter Six

It is said that the male of the species knows nothing of the true nature of the female of the species unless a male had actually lived in a female's stead for a measure of time. However, even the most fatheaded of males can glean some knowledge of the female psyche by close observation and attention to detail. If said male was sufficiently charming and patient, the object female would be of good humour and welcoming of his presence. Otherwise, the female would just as likely introduce him to the sharpness of her tongue and seek to enlighten him as to the universal meaning of the phrase "I am woman." It happened so to Albus Dumbledore the following day.

Albus lay curled on his side snoring lightly. Deep in slumber, he took no notice of the curtains of the sitting room being opened wide nor heard Minerva moving about. Minerva shook him awake. He murmured, "Too early, mother." There came another shake and a voice calling his name.

"Albus, wake up," Minerva prodded.

"Mmmm, ten more minutes. Be good today ... promise," mumbled Albus.

Minerva looked at the watch on the mantelpiece. They were going to be late at the panel they were to speak at - "Aspects of Transfiguration in Education." It would be rude, unprofessional and hardly flattering for them to be tardy, or worse, absent. She nudged the sleeper on the shoulder but still Albus slept. Strange, he's not usually such a sound sleeper. "Albus! Wake up! Wake up, now!"

Albus turned over on his side. He burrowed deeper under his blanket.

Minerva brandished her wand. "This will be worse for me than for you, believe me." She flicked and swished. "Wingardium Leviosa!"

She levitated the headmaster out of bed. His blanket slid off more and more parts of his body the higher he was lifted. Feeling the sudden draftiness, Albus' hands unconsciously felt about for his blanket. For propriety's sake, Minerva charmed his purple nightshirt to stay secure about his body. Once the blanket was lost, Minerva flicked her wand and Albus began to turn vertical. Shortly, upended in mid-air, Albus finally awoke cold, disoriented with a face full of his own beard.

"Wha - uh, phish ... whaz ... what is this?" Handful by handful, still upside down, Albus hauled up his heavy beard until his vision was clear. He found his view captured by two tiny lions' heads growling ferociously up at him. He blinked to clear his vision but the lions remained in sight. His realized he was looking at Minerva's slippers. His eyes swept up the rest of her nighttime attire - slippers, a long night robe of maroon and was that a piece of cream lace peeking through? He had little time to speculate as he became fully aware of his predicament and the blood rushing downward. A heady feeling it was.

"Now that I have your attention, Albus, I suggest you -"

"Was it truly necessary to resort to this?" Still upside down with one hand manhandling his beard aside and the other gesturing at his position, Albus was far from the image of a dignified man.

"I tried several times to wake you. You proved a sound sleeper."

"Did you give a thought to what a position like this could do to a man of my age?"

"You are as far from old and doddering as I am. You will not get any sympathy from me." With another swish of her wand, Albus began to turn upright and then descend. "We have our panel in an hour and half."

Albus' feet touched the ground while flashes of stars danced around his head. He closed his eyes for a few minutes to let the dizziness pass. "I may, just may, have recovered by then."

"I've ordered breakfast. That should improve your disposition." Minerva looked him over. He looked fine to her. "I always thought you to be a light sleeper."

"I was in the middle of a very good dream." Albus stepped towards her. "About you ... and me."

Minerva felt the signs - the rise in temperature, the quickening of breath, the tendrils of awareness coiling inside her. That awareness had grown in the last few weeks pushing aside her doubts and fears; attraction overshadowed their close friendship sometimes threatening to overwhelm her natural reserve. I want more. I need to know more. "At what point were you interrupted?"

Albus paused unsure if he had heard what he thought he had heard. "I was on a journey and I started here." Albus kissed her forehead. "I was sorely distracted by this." He ran one hand through her hair. "I found my trail once more." His other hand traced a line the length of her profile. "By some miracle I found this." He traced her lips.

Minerva got the word out, barely. "Then?"

"A cold, hard wind blew me off course," Albus chuckled. "Perhaps that was for the best."

"Unfinished trips can be unsatisfying." Minerva kissed him lightly on the lips. "For both parties."

She grasped his nightshirt pulling him to her. It didn't matter that his unbrushed beard was rough to the touch. It didn't matter that his hair stuck out in all directions. It didn't matter that he knew she had Gryffindor slippers. At that moment, nothing mattered to her but leaning into his strong, warm body and losing herself in him.

Albus deepened the kiss and wrapped her securely in his arms. They kissed. They nibbled. They tasted. As they broke apart, they both knew that they both reached an emotional and physical point of no return.

Reluctantly, Albus stepped away from her. "A private dinner tonight. We need ... need to talk. Yes?"

Forcing calm and control over the tumult of her own desires, Minerva said. "Tonight."