A/N I am beginning to think I should wait longer between posting chapters.
*sniff, sniff* Poor chapter 12 only got 2 reviews and chapter 13 only 3 reviews.
After Harry had used the portkey, Albus returned to his desk. For hours, he just sat there going over and over things in his mind. He could have used the pensive, but he didn't. He tried to figure out where he had gone wrong with the boy. At exactly what point, had he so completely lost the boy's trust that Harry could believe him capable of such things?
And yet, why shouldn't Harry believe it? The boy had looked him in the eyes as he asked the question. Albus had been too shocked by the question to properly answer it in words, but it wasn't words Harry had been looking for. Harry had been looking into his eyes and there he had seen an answer very clearly - the eyes of a guilty man. It was true.
And yes, it was indeed true. He had used an Unforgivable curse on Minerva. He had once upon a time forced the woman he now adored with all his heart to do something against her will. But it wasn't anything like what Draco Malfoy and Tom Riddle would try to make it out to be.
It was just once, and so very, very long ago. Things had all happened so quickly and there was no time to explain. No time to try to make her understand, to get her to help his efforts. He had needed more power than he possessed, so he had taken hers.
Afterwards, some of the others had congratulated him on his quick thinking and ingenuity, but he had shrugged them off. Even when he was forming the words in his mind to cast the spell, he was already sickened by what he was doing.
But at the time, at the time he had thought it the answer. To this day, he regretted it. He would give anything to undo it, but what's done is done and can never be undone.
And of course Tom Riddle had been there. Afterwards, in all the confusion, in the sorting of the dead, the injured and those merely frightened, at first no one had noticed her absence. Tom Riddle had seen it all and then whisked her away with him. Her supposed rescuer. Minerva had been so trusting, so confused. She had offered no resistance. At least not until later, when Tom had shown his true intentions.
Sometimes, walking through the castle dungeons, Albus was sure he could still hear the sound of her terrified screams, echoing. He tended to avoid visiting the dungeons when at all possible.
Minerva had never been one to dwell on the past and she seldom spoke of things once they were done. Years ago, before they had begun to pursue a more personal relationship, they had discussed the incident. He had felt it necessary to bring it up and out in the open. It was one of the innumerable reasons, he had back then, resisted for so long his feelings towards her. He had worried that any feelings she might have towards him were influenced by remnants of the curse.
Even now, so rarely, but sometimes, it weighed upon his mind. The fear that just maybe her love for him was not of her own free will.
And so, it was many hours later that he was still at his desk when he heard the soft click of the door above him. He couldn't hear her footsteps coming down the staircase or crossing the floor, but many years of experience told him they were there.
When the grey and black tabby cat jumped onto his desk, he was not at all surprised. The cat took in the sight of the desk, uncluttered by any work and then came to sit directly in front of him. When the cat tilted her head at him inquiringly, he said nothing and only watched back in return.
After another moment of their staring contest, the cat was finally replaced by the woman of his thoughts.
It was a warm summer night and there were no students about so no need of the ridiculous green tartan dressing gown. Her waist length hair had no restraint. The nightshirt was not her own. It was her custom to wear one of his nightshirts on nights when he was slow to come to bed. She said she wanted to have the scent of him about her. When he did come to bed she always gladly exchanged the shirt for him.
The nightshirt, being as it was his, was longer than one of her nightdresses. Still with the way her transformation had left her legs dangling off of the edge of his desk, even his nightshirt did not reach all the way to her feet.
He reached down and began to gently caress an ankle with each hand.
He knew she had taken note of his melancholy mood as soon as she entered the room. When she spoke, her voice was gentle and loving, even if the words were reprimanding.
"What are you doing here still? I can see you were not doing any urgent work."
His hands began to softly trail up and down the outer sides of her legs beneath the shirt. Still he did not speak.
"I have been home waiting for you. You know I can not sleep without you."
His hands trailed down again. This time when his hands went back up, they took the light covering of cotton with them. It pooled on the desk at her waist.
Minerva protested as he leaned down and let his kisses slowly wander up her inner thigh.
"Albus, what are you doing?"
He thought it fairly clear what he was doing so he didn't stop to reply.
"Albus, really! What has gotten into you tonight?"
She protested, but he knew she didn't mean it. There had been a time when she hadn't been able to let anyone touch her. A time when she couldn't stop her whole body from tensing. When she couldn't help but pull away - even from him. But that time was far behind them.
Now as his kisses reached higher, her legs instinctively spread, welcoming him. As his lips parted to let his tongue pass, she lay back on his desk and gave a gasp. In the gasp was a name.
"Armando."
"Oh for Merlin's sake! I'm going." grumbled the portrait as its resident left for the halls of the Ministry of Magic.
Albus couldn't help but smile. Minerva, having never met in life, the other portrait residents, was unphased by their presence. But poor, beleaguered Armando Dippet had quite often over the years been evicted from his former office.
Knowing Minerva so many years, Albus had a detailed knowledge of her likes and dislikes. It did not take him long to achieve what he set out to do. He relished the way her body quivered pleasantly beneath his mouth.
Afterwards, he wrapped his arms around her and rested his head on her stomach to listen. Minerva lay contentedly on his desk trying to settle her ragged breathing. He knew it would take her a few minutes to speak again, but already he could hear what he wanted.
"You are purring."
He loved the sound of her purring. It was such a clear, honest sign of her happiness. For years, she had denied she did it, embarrassed by it carrying over from her animagus form. But oh, how he adored it. To have such direct, unmistakable proof of her contentedness.
"So what if I am?"
Her purring was too loud and her sigh too contented for her attempt at a dry tone to be convincing.
"Not that I am complaining, but you know that wasn't what I meant when I said I couldn't sleep without you."
As her hands began to stroke his silvery hair, once so auburn he asked his question of her.
"Have I ever made you do anything you didn't want to do?"
She didn't say anything for a moment as she tried to puzzle out what he was getting at. Finally, unable to figure it out, she replied.
"You have had a hard enough time over the years, getting me to do the things I wanted to do. I hardly think you would stand much of a chance getting me to do something I did not want to do."
It was a good answer he knew. Both of them had wasted far too long through the years being difficult. Not that they hadn't shared some thirty wonderful years together, but still he regretted the years they had foolishly squandered.
"Why do you love me?"
Without lifting his head, he knew at least one eyebrow had gone up at his question. Most likely both.
"What has gotten into you today?"
He smiled. "Kindly answer the question."
She sighed, but as the purring did not stop, he was unconcerned.
Her tone wasn't angry, just a little irritated. Not at him he knew. A bit at the question maybe, but mostly at her own answer. She despised being less than eloquent, but verbally expressing her feelings was difficult for her. It always had been.
"I do not know. You are tender and loving, noble. The scent of you makes me feel secure."
She frowned and struggled for words.
"You understand me, you accept me without question - took a while to train you on that one. Apparently you are relapsing."
He couldn't help a chuckle at that.
She continued. "You make me feel warm inside. You consume me. You complete me. I long since stopped feeling whole without you."
Her voice went from contemplative to exasperated and back again to contemplative as she spoke.
"You make me purr. You are the only one who has ever done that. Well, except when I am a cat. Than anyone who finds the right spot under my chin or behind my ears can do it. There is more, but I can not for the life of me tell you now."
She sighed again and tried to turn the tables.
"Why do you love me?"
His response was so simple, it took only four words. He knew she would be annoyed after trying so hard to elaborate for him, but it had been his answer for many years now.
"You are my everything."
After a few moments of comfortable silence, she asked again.
"What happened tonight?"
He knew she was referring to his reflective mood and not the earlier expression of his love. Through the years, the portraits of his office had bore witness to innumerable such acts.
"Harry had his first occlumency lesson with me today."
"I see." Minerva said knowingly. "Was it your memory or Harry's that upset you?"
"Something he said actually."
She waited expectantly.
"He knows I used the Imperius curse on you."
It was a long time before she spoke again. He didn't need to use legilimency, indeed he never would use it on her, to know she was lost in remembrance. When she did speak, she sounded so fragile.
"What did he say after you told him why?"
Albus shrugged against her.
"I was so surprised when he said it, I couldn't even put together a response."
Her purring had stopped.
"I killed Robert."
He held her tighter.
"Oh Minerva, that was not your intention."
"But I still did it. What will Harry think of me when he finds out?"
"Minerva, it happened a very long time ago. It won't change Harry's opinion of you."
He wanted desperately to say something to reassure her.
"He doesn't even like History of Magic class. Besides, it's not like anyone could even tell the difference. Certainly his students never did."
Minerva couldn't help but laugh.
"Oh, Albus, you are horrid!"
Her voice was much more certain this time. More importantly, the purring had started again.
"Come home with me now. It is rather late and I am not through with you yet for the night. You can speak to Harry in the morning."
Standing, he took one of her hands and kissed it.
"As always, anything you wish, my dear."
A/N Okay expect answers to start _slowly_ trickling in next chapter after Dumbledore talks to Harry.
And I have no idea in what fic I read Binn's first name as being Robert, but if anyone knows please let me know. It stuck with me so well that I was actually convinced it was his canon name.
*sniff, sniff* Poor chapter 12 only got 2 reviews and chapter 13 only 3 reviews.
After Harry had used the portkey, Albus returned to his desk. For hours, he just sat there going over and over things in his mind. He could have used the pensive, but he didn't. He tried to figure out where he had gone wrong with the boy. At exactly what point, had he so completely lost the boy's trust that Harry could believe him capable of such things?
And yet, why shouldn't Harry believe it? The boy had looked him in the eyes as he asked the question. Albus had been too shocked by the question to properly answer it in words, but it wasn't words Harry had been looking for. Harry had been looking into his eyes and there he had seen an answer very clearly - the eyes of a guilty man. It was true.
And yes, it was indeed true. He had used an Unforgivable curse on Minerva. He had once upon a time forced the woman he now adored with all his heart to do something against her will. But it wasn't anything like what Draco Malfoy and Tom Riddle would try to make it out to be.
It was just once, and so very, very long ago. Things had all happened so quickly and there was no time to explain. No time to try to make her understand, to get her to help his efforts. He had needed more power than he possessed, so he had taken hers.
Afterwards, some of the others had congratulated him on his quick thinking and ingenuity, but he had shrugged them off. Even when he was forming the words in his mind to cast the spell, he was already sickened by what he was doing.
But at the time, at the time he had thought it the answer. To this day, he regretted it. He would give anything to undo it, but what's done is done and can never be undone.
And of course Tom Riddle had been there. Afterwards, in all the confusion, in the sorting of the dead, the injured and those merely frightened, at first no one had noticed her absence. Tom Riddle had seen it all and then whisked her away with him. Her supposed rescuer. Minerva had been so trusting, so confused. She had offered no resistance. At least not until later, when Tom had shown his true intentions.
Sometimes, walking through the castle dungeons, Albus was sure he could still hear the sound of her terrified screams, echoing. He tended to avoid visiting the dungeons when at all possible.
Minerva had never been one to dwell on the past and she seldom spoke of things once they were done. Years ago, before they had begun to pursue a more personal relationship, they had discussed the incident. He had felt it necessary to bring it up and out in the open. It was one of the innumerable reasons, he had back then, resisted for so long his feelings towards her. He had worried that any feelings she might have towards him were influenced by remnants of the curse.
Even now, so rarely, but sometimes, it weighed upon his mind. The fear that just maybe her love for him was not of her own free will.
And so, it was many hours later that he was still at his desk when he heard the soft click of the door above him. He couldn't hear her footsteps coming down the staircase or crossing the floor, but many years of experience told him they were there.
When the grey and black tabby cat jumped onto his desk, he was not at all surprised. The cat took in the sight of the desk, uncluttered by any work and then came to sit directly in front of him. When the cat tilted her head at him inquiringly, he said nothing and only watched back in return.
After another moment of their staring contest, the cat was finally replaced by the woman of his thoughts.
It was a warm summer night and there were no students about so no need of the ridiculous green tartan dressing gown. Her waist length hair had no restraint. The nightshirt was not her own. It was her custom to wear one of his nightshirts on nights when he was slow to come to bed. She said she wanted to have the scent of him about her. When he did come to bed she always gladly exchanged the shirt for him.
The nightshirt, being as it was his, was longer than one of her nightdresses. Still with the way her transformation had left her legs dangling off of the edge of his desk, even his nightshirt did not reach all the way to her feet.
He reached down and began to gently caress an ankle with each hand.
He knew she had taken note of his melancholy mood as soon as she entered the room. When she spoke, her voice was gentle and loving, even if the words were reprimanding.
"What are you doing here still? I can see you were not doing any urgent work."
His hands began to softly trail up and down the outer sides of her legs beneath the shirt. Still he did not speak.
"I have been home waiting for you. You know I can not sleep without you."
His hands trailed down again. This time when his hands went back up, they took the light covering of cotton with them. It pooled on the desk at her waist.
Minerva protested as he leaned down and let his kisses slowly wander up her inner thigh.
"Albus, what are you doing?"
He thought it fairly clear what he was doing so he didn't stop to reply.
"Albus, really! What has gotten into you tonight?"
She protested, but he knew she didn't mean it. There had been a time when she hadn't been able to let anyone touch her. A time when she couldn't stop her whole body from tensing. When she couldn't help but pull away - even from him. But that time was far behind them.
Now as his kisses reached higher, her legs instinctively spread, welcoming him. As his lips parted to let his tongue pass, she lay back on his desk and gave a gasp. In the gasp was a name.
"Armando."
"Oh for Merlin's sake! I'm going." grumbled the portrait as its resident left for the halls of the Ministry of Magic.
Albus couldn't help but smile. Minerva, having never met in life, the other portrait residents, was unphased by their presence. But poor, beleaguered Armando Dippet had quite often over the years been evicted from his former office.
Knowing Minerva so many years, Albus had a detailed knowledge of her likes and dislikes. It did not take him long to achieve what he set out to do. He relished the way her body quivered pleasantly beneath his mouth.
Afterwards, he wrapped his arms around her and rested his head on her stomach to listen. Minerva lay contentedly on his desk trying to settle her ragged breathing. He knew it would take her a few minutes to speak again, but already he could hear what he wanted.
"You are purring."
He loved the sound of her purring. It was such a clear, honest sign of her happiness. For years, she had denied she did it, embarrassed by it carrying over from her animagus form. But oh, how he adored it. To have such direct, unmistakable proof of her contentedness.
"So what if I am?"
Her purring was too loud and her sigh too contented for her attempt at a dry tone to be convincing.
"Not that I am complaining, but you know that wasn't what I meant when I said I couldn't sleep without you."
As her hands began to stroke his silvery hair, once so auburn he asked his question of her.
"Have I ever made you do anything you didn't want to do?"
She didn't say anything for a moment as she tried to puzzle out what he was getting at. Finally, unable to figure it out, she replied.
"You have had a hard enough time over the years, getting me to do the things I wanted to do. I hardly think you would stand much of a chance getting me to do something I did not want to do."
It was a good answer he knew. Both of them had wasted far too long through the years being difficult. Not that they hadn't shared some thirty wonderful years together, but still he regretted the years they had foolishly squandered.
"Why do you love me?"
Without lifting his head, he knew at least one eyebrow had gone up at his question. Most likely both.
"What has gotten into you today?"
He smiled. "Kindly answer the question."
She sighed, but as the purring did not stop, he was unconcerned.
Her tone wasn't angry, just a little irritated. Not at him he knew. A bit at the question maybe, but mostly at her own answer. She despised being less than eloquent, but verbally expressing her feelings was difficult for her. It always had been.
"I do not know. You are tender and loving, noble. The scent of you makes me feel secure."
She frowned and struggled for words.
"You understand me, you accept me without question - took a while to train you on that one. Apparently you are relapsing."
He couldn't help a chuckle at that.
She continued. "You make me feel warm inside. You consume me. You complete me. I long since stopped feeling whole without you."
Her voice went from contemplative to exasperated and back again to contemplative as she spoke.
"You make me purr. You are the only one who has ever done that. Well, except when I am a cat. Than anyone who finds the right spot under my chin or behind my ears can do it. There is more, but I can not for the life of me tell you now."
She sighed again and tried to turn the tables.
"Why do you love me?"
His response was so simple, it took only four words. He knew she would be annoyed after trying so hard to elaborate for him, but it had been his answer for many years now.
"You are my everything."
After a few moments of comfortable silence, she asked again.
"What happened tonight?"
He knew she was referring to his reflective mood and not the earlier expression of his love. Through the years, the portraits of his office had bore witness to innumerable such acts.
"Harry had his first occlumency lesson with me today."
"I see." Minerva said knowingly. "Was it your memory or Harry's that upset you?"
"Something he said actually."
She waited expectantly.
"He knows I used the Imperius curse on you."
It was a long time before she spoke again. He didn't need to use legilimency, indeed he never would use it on her, to know she was lost in remembrance. When she did speak, she sounded so fragile.
"What did he say after you told him why?"
Albus shrugged against her.
"I was so surprised when he said it, I couldn't even put together a response."
Her purring had stopped.
"I killed Robert."
He held her tighter.
"Oh Minerva, that was not your intention."
"But I still did it. What will Harry think of me when he finds out?"
"Minerva, it happened a very long time ago. It won't change Harry's opinion of you."
He wanted desperately to say something to reassure her.
"He doesn't even like History of Magic class. Besides, it's not like anyone could even tell the difference. Certainly his students never did."
Minerva couldn't help but laugh.
"Oh, Albus, you are horrid!"
Her voice was much more certain this time. More importantly, the purring had started again.
"Come home with me now. It is rather late and I am not through with you yet for the night. You can speak to Harry in the morning."
Standing, he took one of her hands and kissed it.
"As always, anything you wish, my dear."
A/N Okay expect answers to start _slowly_ trickling in next chapter after Dumbledore talks to Harry.
And I have no idea in what fic I read Binn's first name as being Robert, but if anyone knows please let me know. It stuck with me so well that I was actually convinced it was his canon name.