Chapter Three: On Stolen Time

A/N: A cookie-chapter as an apology for not getting the next chapter out (hence the randomness). This chapter accounts for the missing three months (that I previously ignored). My beta's away (hence the poorer writing), so any and all errors are mine alone.

"I need your help with Minerva," Albus Dumbledore said shortly, looking at the two women hopefully.

Rolanda Hooch and Poppy Pomfrey exchanged a significant look.

"What did you do this time?" the flying professor asked accusingly. "The last time I tried to get you back in Minerva's good graces, she turned every one of my brooms bright pink!"

"No, no, nothing like that," the Headmaster assured them hastily. The two women observed the great wizard evenly, eyebrows raised. "I'm taking Minerva out to dinner tonight and I need you two to raid her closet while we're gone."

"What?"

With an eager, boyish smile, Albus Dumbledore explained his plan. "Don't forget now. Ten o'clock tonight, outside the Great Hall." He opened the door to Rolanda's office. "Thank you." He flashed them a last quick smile and then was gone.

Rolanda Hooch and Poppy Pomfrey, two of Minerva McGonagall's oldest friends, looked at each other and shrugged. Minerva had made her choice fifty years ago, and they still did not fully understand it.

"Thank you for dinner tonight, Albus. It was wonderful," Minerva said softly as they strolled slowly through the empty halls of Hogwarts. Albus had allowed her to forego use of her walking stick provided that she used him instead, an arrangement she was more than willing to agree to.

He smiled softly, continuing at his slow pace as he led her back down the hallway. "I'm glad you enjoyed it. It's been a rough year for you."

"And for you," Minerva insisted.

"And for me," he agreed mildly. Instead of leading her back to their rooms, Albus stopped just outside the doors to the Great Hall. "I have something for you, Minerva."

She glanced up at him, startled. "But—"

Albus shook his head and held up a hand to silence her. "Close your eyes."

Frowning slightly, Minerva obeyed, missing the delighted little smile on Albus's face. "Trust me," he whispered. One of his arms came up around her waist, and then Minerva felt the familiar tug of a portkey.

Minerva swayed dangerously on her feet and clung desperately to Albus, eyes still closed. She hated portkeys. "Albus?"

"One moment, darling." His arm left her waist and she felt him move away. Minerva heard the rustle of cloth and the squeak of a door.

"Albus?"

"This way," he replied enigmatically. A gentle hand on her arm led her away. "Watch your step." Minerva stepped down carefully, mind whirling as her feet sank slightly into the ground. The night air was crisp and cool, and a salty tang carried on the wind. She could hear the soft crashing of waves before her. He didn't…

"Albus?"

"All right, love, open your eyes."

A short silence fell as Minerva observed the scene in shock. "Albus, you didn't…" she breathed.

He smiled again. "Welcome home, darling."

Minerva turned to him, green eyes alight. "Oh, Albus..."

They were home. This was their secret place, a little cottage in the south of France where they could hide away from the world and be simply Albus and Minerva and nothing more. It was all they needed, all they wanted—and all they never had time for.

Minerva looked up into the starry night sky. At Orion's feet, the star Sirius shone brightly, much as the man had done during his life. Minerva swallowed, blinking away tears.

"It's all right, Minerva," Albus whispered softly, his arms encircling her comfortingly. She leaned back into his embrace gratefully. Looking up again, Sirius shining down on her, Minerva made her decision. In her heart, she made a silent promise to the two boys who had never truly grown up—to the one gone and, more importantly, to the one beside her. For once in their lives, they would come first. "Dance with me," she demanded abruptly.

Albus smiled warmly, eyes twinkling in approval of her decision. A wave of his hand and the soft strains of a very familiar waltz began to echo across the sands. Albus offered Minerva his hand as his other reached around to rest behind the small of her back. Her hand slid upward and toyed idly with his hair as they began to move in time to the music. Minerva was not surprised when she found herself suddenly floating a few inches above the ground. Her injuries should have precluded her participation in one of her favorite activities, but Albus would have shifted the stars for her had she but wished it.

"Forever and always," he whispered. "Happy Anniversary, my love."

"Happy Anniversary, Albus."

"So, are you going to tell me how you planned this?" Minerva asked him the next morning, laughing inwardly as he prepared breakfast the Muggle way with a boyish enthusiasm.

"That would ruin the surprise," he replied, grinning.

She rolled her eyes. "It's no longer a surprise, Albus."

He paused, brows furrowed deeply. "I guess you're right," he said, flashing her a sudden smile. "All right, then, I'll tell you."

"I thought that we could use a break, and so I arranged for us to come here for the month. Poppy and Rolanda packed your clothes; we can owl them if you need anything else. Everything's been taken care of."

Minerva had lost him after the first sentence. "You did what?"

"I took off a month," Albus replied evenly, eyes dancing, a little smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "And I gave you off for a month."

"Why?" Minerva was gaping at him.

"Because it's our fiftieth anniversary this month, and when I married you, I promised that you would come first, always. Do you remember?" he asked seriously.

Minerva ran right over him. "Yes, but Albus, the Order—"

"Will be just fine without me," he interrupted firmly. "I've left Kingsley in charge of the day-to-day business. Aberforth is handling Severus. If there are any conflicts, he'll handle it. They're not to disturb us unless Hogwarts crumbles into dust while we're gone."

"Albus—"

"No, Minerva. You come first, darling. Forever and always, always and forever. Do you remember?"

"Yes, of course—"

"Then it's settled." Sensing her protest, he caught her hands and forced her to look up at him. "Let's just take this month, Minerva. One month. On our fiftieth anniversary, the anniversary of the best day of my life. You come first, my love, always. You need this; I need this. We've devoted our entire lives to saving the world. This is our time." She looked up at him sadly, and he shook his head slightly. "I won't deny that it's stolen time, but it's been stolen for you," Albus added, opening his hands as if to offer it to her in a ridiculously grandiose. "This is our life," he said, suddenly serious. "Stay with me."

Minerva closed her eyes and stood still for a long moment. Neither breathed in that space and both laughed simultaneously when they looked at each other. "You know me too well," she said finally, looking up with him with a slight smile.

His delighted grin told her that he had already known her answer—in truth, had probably known what it would be while he planned this—but she told him anyway. "One month sounds wonderful, Albus."

Albus kissed Minerva deeply just as she finished her sentence. "Wonderful," he whispered, before closing the distance between them again.

"Wonderful," she agreed breathlessly, some time later.

"Gone? What do you mean, they're gone?" the shadowed figure roared.

The rat-man cringed fearfully. "I mean, they've just…just disappeared, my Lord. We can't find them anywhere and nobody seems to know where they've gone."

"Imbecile," the tall blonde man beside the figure said coldly. "How hard is it for a rat to keep track of two professors in one building?"

The figure's red eyes narrowed into harsh slits as he observed the cowering creature before him. "You have failed me, Wormtail," he declared coolly. "I am displeased." The rat-man called Wormtail nodded dumbly, trembling violently. "Luckily for you, however, I know that they will return."

"My Lord?" the blonde questioned.

The figure's answering smile was vicious. "Minerva would never miss school. We shall see them again, I suspect, in September."

Wormtail let out a small sigh, attracting the figure's attention to him again. "Still, you did fail me, and you know I never let that go unpunished." It was perhaps for the best that Wormtail took in a sharp breath at his master's words; the agonized screaming that followed allowed for no others.

"September," the Dark Lord hissed through clenched teeth. "September."

A/N: Reviews are always appreciated as encouragement and inspiration for this writer, who is currently struggling with the long, convoluted thing she hopes will become chapter eight.