Chapter Seven

Pat, pat, twist, pat. "What do you think about her, Sachi?" The matronly witch pushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Who, Natasha?" asked a petite, Japanese witch peering closely at the mirror. The mirror whispered a few choice suggestions.

"Minerva McGonagall, that is who," Natasha adjusted her hat. "Everyone is talking about her."

"A few articles in a paper and she's a celebrity." Sachi leaned in closer to the mirror. "She is not what I expected."

"Her level of power is unusual in a woman."

"I was talking about her person. She is so ... so plain." Sachi looked vainly in the mirror for any new wrinkles. She was so absorbed in her task that she did not take note of a slight thump coming from a bathroom stall behind her.

"You think so? She's more unassuming I would say and very confident."

"Well, if I had Albus Dumbledore by the nose, I would be confident, too."

"The nose? My dear, you are being polite," Natasha giggled.

"Did you notice, during the lecture, the looks he was giving her? I swear he was panting after her and she well knew it." The two women cackled and giggled some more. So loud was their merriment that neither woman heard the agitated rustling of robes coming from the stall.

"It's obvious how he feels about her, with or without the Daily Prophet's help," Natasha added. "But how does she feel about him? She's so ... reserved ... so English."

"You are such a romantic," Sachi groaned. "He's old enough to be her grandfather. What could she see in him besides, a ... a trophy of power and position."

"Dumbledore seems like a nice man who is very much in love. I hope she doesn't hurt him."

The other woman snorted. "He has a woman more than half his age sharing his bed. He's getting as much out of their situation as she is. I would not pity either one of them."

BANG! Minerva marched out with head held high. Her steely regard silenced the two chatterboxes and fixed them in their place more effectively than any spell. Minerva slowly perused each woman, each in their turn head to toe. After her thorough review, she sailed past them but not without first commenting loudly, "I would say that I am not the one in need of pity or sympathy."

Minerva stopped just as she reached the exit and added. "I find that those who speak of sex and intimacy so openly, and in public, rarely enjoy enough of either in private."

With brisk steps, Minerva walkedthrough the main lobby heading towards the gift shop. The women's comments had stung. Did people believe her to be shallow and ambitious, that she cared not at all for Albus? What kind of hold did they think she had over him? And what pray tell did the Prophet have to do with anything, save for those excerpts?

She looked through the stacks of newspapers until she found the Daily Prophet. There were issues one and two days out of date. She bought one of each. With the papers tucked under her elbow, she paid and slipped out to a secluded corner of the lobby. The excerpts were not difficult to find seeing as they were on the front page.

After a few minutes and reading all the excerpts, she wiped the tears from her eyes. With shaking hands she folded and smoothed the papers down. In her mind repeated his sweet declaration. He loves me so much, so very much. The entire world knows it. In her heart, she wondered about her own feelings.

What am I going to do about this, about him, about us?

George Henkel sidled to the hotel front desk. With great care he put his package on the desk. He asked the clerk, "Excuse me, can you tell me if Albus Dumbledore is in his room?"

"No sir, like many of our guests he is at the conference."

"In that case, I'd like to book a room please, just for tonight."

"Very well, sir."

"And if you would be so kind to inform me when Professor Dumbledore is in." George went up to his room.

He gave in to his exhaustion but not before hiding his package under the bed first. Discretion and security had to be maintained at all times.

Albus shook hands absently with a wizard from Bombay. Their panel discussion had been a great success. Afterwards both he and Minerva were mobbed, but he had always known where she was. A few minutes agoshe had inexplicably disappeared. His eyes scanned the conference rooms for Minerva for the twentieth time in as many minutes. Where was she?

His eyes went through the crowds again. He could not prevent the smilethat graced his face after he spotted heramong the crowd. His smile grew wider as she walked towards him acknowledging well wishers along the way.

Upon reaching his side, she stood on tiptoe and whispered, "My love, you shouldn't look at me like that. People will talk."

"There is nothing else worth looking at morethan you." Dumbledore swallowed. "You said my love? Do you mean it?"

Minerva's eyes sparkled. "When did I ever say anything I didn't mean?" She looked into his eyes and mouthed the words, "Yes, I love you."

Albus' ears filled with a roaring sound that drowned out all other sounds save for the pounding of his heart. Albus traced her jawline, eyes locked with hers. She LOVES me. She loves ME. He bent down and kissed her cheek. She hugged him back burying her face against his chest.

Around them, wizards and witches tried without success to not notice or stare at the naked display of intimacy between the two. Not that the two in the center of it all was even aware of the world outside of their own. Minerva cupped his face in hers and said, "You told the world how you felt about me. Now it's my turn." There, in public view, she kissed him on the nose before gracing his lips with a kiss that left no confusion about her passion for him.

Albus slid a hand up her spine deliberately enjoying the journey until he was cradling her neck. He returned the kiss in full measure. Minerva, senses reeling, toes curling, slid her arms around his neck eagerly abetting his voluptuous exploration. Her grip tightened even as she molded herself to his body. Albus let loose the self-imposed restraints on his nerves and spirit. His courtship was now complete. With his every brush of warmth across her lips, he committed himself more and more, longer, deeper, forever.

It was Minerva who found the will to break their kiss. Her arms slid down to her sides. "I think we should save some for later."

Albus chuckled. "Just when I think I know you, you do something surprising."

"Hold that thought," Minerva crossed her arms and tapped one foot. She was not smiling. "We still have to discuss these excerpts of yours."

"Er, you found out." Albus said sheepishly. "I can explain and I -"

Minerva nodded. "You can explain afterwards, Albus."

"After what?"

"Tonight, after you show me, to my full satisfaction, just how sorry you are for deceiving me," Minerva turned around. "Excuse me, Albus, I'm utterly parched. I need a drink."

Albus watched her retreating form. He schooled his heart to calmness while his mind turned over the various positions of apology he could employ later. I am going to tell her everything and then make an apology she'll feel for days.

With that decision made, he went outside to get some needed air.