Revert To Type

Disclaimer: I own little to nothing of what it is named/referred to and am making even less from it.

Chapter 7.

Albus woke slowly and for a moment couldn't think why he was in bed in the middle of the day. The sun was filtering through the window where he hadn't closed the curtains, which was most unlike him – if he didn't then he was prone to finding a Tabby cat lounging in the early morning rays as apposed to waking up in her arms. With that, the happenings of the last twelve hours or so hit home with a force that felt like a physical blow. He fell back into the pillows and closed his eye again, hoping beyond hope that he would wake up to find it had all been a nightmare, a horrible, horrible imagining of his own subconscious. But deep down he knew that that wasn't true.

Something had changed indelibly within his heart, at least for the time being and an aching loss settled over him. He rose, showered and dressed without really thinking at all and before his brain seemed to have re-engaged he was standing in front of her door again. He spoke the password quietly, the Gaelic greeting making him think of the gentle singsong accent of the child that she had become. So innocent, naive and pure, in so many ways so very different from the woman he knew and loved – or at least had. It wasn't that he had given up on her…

As he walked through her territory it was more than easy to see her back there in a few days time telling him off for being so melodramatic, but he knew what the chances of Severus's success were. He wandered around, running a hand over her impeccably neat desk and picking up the few knick-knacks that adorned her shelves. He smiled at the lion's head book stops that growled and snapped at you, a gift from the Weasley twins after their rather hurried departure. It was just the little things, the gifts from grateful students and the odd token from a colleague, but there was not a single photograph on display.

She herself had never particularly like having her picture taken, as the fiasco with the Order photograph - both the original and the more recent versions - and they had never flaunted their own relationship with public displays.

He found himself wandering into her bedroom, where the covers were still asunder, the curtains remained half un-drawn and the silk pyjama bottoms were still lying on the floor where they had been abandoned earlier. Making his way over to the vanity, where he had watched her create the rather notorious bun that had become part of her carefully cultivated persona, he picked up the simple silver brush from the matching set that were the only things lying on top. She had treasured these items as much as any he had seen her with, and as he carefully caressed the cold metal he felt as if there was some form of connection there. He knew that she had few reminders of her childhood, certainly before she came to Hogwarts and fewer still of her mother, but these were certainly that. As he put the implement down he had an idea.

Crossing the room, he pulled open the double doors of the wardrobe and quickly found what he was looking for. Sitting on the top shelf, in front of the stacks of blankets that were neatly folded and stacked, was Lamblet. The sheep had been painstakingly crafted by a mother for a daughter she would see but wouldn't live to raise, with a genuine sheepskin body, button eyes and felt ears. It was no trial for him to remember the protective way in which the girl had treated the stuffed toy during her first few years at the school, he was even aware that during the years where they were fighting Grindlewald, Lamblet was often the only thing in her vault at Gringgotts.

Reaching up, he plucked it off the shelf and held it up to his face. She had told him once that even now, she still had a feeling of security when she held it close and as a child she had been able to smell her mother's scent on the soft wool. Holding it close he buried his face in its comfort, where whether in reality or simply due to his imagination, he was convinced that he could smell something that was identifiably Minerva there. Backing away until he hit the bed, he all but collapsed onto it as the tears began to fall. He knew that he was doing no-one any good by this action, that she might not be lost to him, but over the years he had learned to trust his instincts and part of him knew that the woman he had grown to love more than life itself was gone from him for good.

He didn't have any concept of time other than the shifting light that fell on the stone flags of the floor, but even that was totally abstract to him, viewed only through a veil of tears. But there was something in Albus's makeup that refused to let him sink into a stupor for too long. When he did seem to come back to his senses, it was by the sound of feet above his head. Minerva's rooms were directly below the Gryffindor common room, a location she had chosen as she claimed to like the ability it gave her to know exactly what was going on in the tower.

In any case, the Headmaster surmised from the distinct increase in noise levels that classes for the day had likely ended. Sitting up he searched his many pockets for a hanky, blowing his nose and wiping at his eyes to try and create some semblance of normality to his features. Where he sat at the bottom of the bed he was facing the door, which had closed behind him on his entry. Hanging from a hook on the back of it was a hanger that held the previous day's teaching garb. It took a moment for it to click with him. He knew instantaneously that there was something important about these, but couldn't for the life of him think what.

He let his mind wander back to the conversation he had had with Severus about the student's reports on all that had gone on during the class in question and it struck him. They had documented Minerva simply banishing the potion with a quick cleaning spell which did little more than remove the mess it had created, the effects it had resulted in had not been negated and he was fairly certain that the basic charm would certainly not have removed all of the potion from her garb. Pulling the heavy green fabric off the hanger, he opened the door with almost as much force, and carrying the two entirely different objects he set off at a pace to find the potions master. He found him, ensconced in his work next to Fillius Flitwick in his classroom, where almost every inch of the desk space was covered in open books and the blackboards covered in scrawling notes in many hands.

"Good afternoon Albus." The charms instructor greeted him on his arrival, which in turn led to Severus looking up rather sharply.

"Headmaster." The younger man said.

"I…I found this in her… in Minerva's room. It ought to be the one that she was wearing yesterday." He said holding it out. Something in the dark haired man's face changed and as it did, he stood and came out from where he was sitting. Taking the garment, the potions expert examined it carefully using Lumos to better see the garment in question, rather than the candlelight presumably for safety reasons.

"Actually – there might be something to this. I should get it to the Ministry Labs." Severus said after a moment.

"I can do that." Fillius offered and took the deep green velvet that the other man had folded neatly.

"Thank you." Albus said absentmindedly as the shorter man hurried out of the room.

"I spoke to the Department of Magical Advancement just before lunch and they've already started working on it." Severus told him as he gestured to a seat. "It's fairly plain that there's someone there who remembers her – after I reported the incident to the junior clerk who answered the floo, I got called back fairly quickly. They've promised to do everything they can, which is a huge relief as I'm sure you'll agree." And Albus did, he hadn't thought of the time Minerva had spent in that particular department after her graduation, or those who would still be around who would remember her.

"Yes. Yes indeed." He confirmed quietly.

"If you don't mind me asking," the other man began again with a quizzical look, "what on earth is that?" Looking down to see what it was he was gesturing at, he was a little shocked to realise he was still holding Lamblet.

"Oh… this was…is Minerva's. Her mother made it for her, so it was very special to her."

"It's unusual but I suppose I can see why it would have emotional value."

"Well it certainly did. Perhaps…" He thought out loud. " I should give it to the girl – something she'd recognise." He looked up from the sheep and into Severus' face.

"I think that would be a very good idea." Said the younger man quietly not glancing away.

"Right, then in that case I suppose I had better take it…" He trailed off as he realised that though he was beginning to get a grip on things again, he really didn't feel ready to face the child again quite yet. The younger man seemed to pick this up as he offered another suggestion.

"Well, Poppy seems to have decided that it would be best if Minerva stays with me, so how about we leave it in her new room for now?" Albus nodded.

"If you would, I'd be very grateful – I really ought to set up an appointment to see Mrs. Malfoy." The thought of having a task to accomplish seemed to help as his brain seemed to begin reorganising itself into some form of comprehendible structure.

A/N:

OK – so much thanks to M and everyone who reviewed (especially my loyal followers grin) and a special if confussled acknowledgement to Morfiniel whose review was much appreciated if not entirely understood wink

On that point I should probably say something I meant to earlier but may have forgotten to mention – I don't speak Gaelic. Or at least not much, so most of what I use is standard phrases or cobbled together from a dictionary. However I do try and make it as accurate as possible and apologise for any grammatical nonsensity that anyone who does speak might have issues with…

Anyways – hope you enjoyed this chapter and please (please please please please please please please please please please) review grin

xLx