Chapter Fourteen: Recurring Nightmares

Something pricked him in his sleep: a sharp, cold feeling that woke him abruptly and left an unpleasant feeling in his gut. Albus's blue eyes opened slowly, a slight frown upon his face. Dismissing his unease as some kind of post-traumatic anxiety, he attempted to return to sleep but abandoned all attempts when he caught the rasping intake of breath from the woman beside him.

Concerned, Albus rolled over to look at Minerva and felt his heart drop: though her eyes were tightly closed, she was clearly terrified. Her body was tense and unnaturally still, her left hand clenched into a fist pressed into her chest.

"Minerva?" Albus asked gently. The woman shuddered slightly but gave him no sign of recognition. Now greatly alarmed and quite worried about his wife, Albus tried again, reaching out a hesitant hand towards her shoulder. "Minerva?"

She started at his touch, flinching away like a wild thing, her eyes flying open as she stared at him in terror. Albus quickly suppressed his flash of hurt at her reaction with his worry. "Minerva? It's me, Albus. You're safe," he tried again, making sure to keep his voice reassuring and even.

She shuddered violently and continued staring at him wide-eyed. Her obvious fear of him stabbed Albus in a way nothing else had; neither Tom's cruel words nor Minerva's anguished face at his arrival had hurt quite like this. For a brief moment he felt a surge of pure, unadulterated hatred for the monster that had reduced his Minerva to this.

She flinched visibly at the anger in his face. "You're not real," she said shakily, trying to shift as far away from him as possible. "You're not real…"

"Min—" Albus began hesitantly, unsure of how to proceed.

"No! You're not him! Leave me alone!" Minerva cried, shaking violently now. "I won't tell you anything!"

Albus's heart constricted painfully. "I know," he said quietly, the pain in his voice stopping Minerva short. Her head snapped up and she looked at him incredulously. For a brief second, a flash of recognition shone in her eyes, only to be quickly extinguished.

"No…" she whimpered, cringing away from him and further into herself. "No more."

Albus grasped then, in full, exactly how Tom had attempted to extract information from Minerva after the traditional methods had failed. Since he had been unable to get anything out of her as himself, he had tried to do it as Albus—and probably everyone Minerva had ever known. Albus was nauseated by the thought of what had been done to Minerva by someone in his form. She had never been particularly good at shielding out projections, and though he knew that Tom had never broken her mind, the continual strain of keeping her shields up for seven days straight, probably without much food or water, and with all the injuries that the mediwitch had catalogued…

"Merlin, I'm so sorry, Minerva," he whispered, closing his eyes and turning away in momentary defeat. He had failed her magnificently. No one but the great Albus Dumbledore could have—

Albus's eyes flew open at the familiar, feather-light touch that flitted across his cheek. "Minerva?"

"A—Albus?" she asked hesitantly, observing him with a mixture of fear and hope that would have been comical had he not been so close to tears.

"Minerva." Unwilling to allow Tom another moment's victory, Albus simply enveloped her in his arms, careful of her injuries, and opened his heart to her. She stiffened at his touch and nearly cried out, but he would not allow her to leave. This was harder and far less clear than using Legilimency, more feelings than words, but it was the only form of communication that could never be falsified. It was how they had always communicated, long before they used the parlor tricks he had taught her, before they fully knew what they were doing. It was a level far beyond that of the mind, for just as their magics were connected, so were their hearts. Minerva It's me I love you I'm sorry I should've come for you Never should have let you stay Love you so much Please Sorry Love you…

Albus could feel her struggle with his onslaught and sent her one last truth, so simple that it could never be garbled, yet so absolute that in telling her, he gave her all that he was in that instant. I. Love. You.

She froze and looked up to meet his eyes. Emerald and sapphire sparkled and shone as she allowed him past her shields. I love you, Minerva. Forever and always.

Albus. There was no doubt in her tone, only relief and affection. Minerva finally collapsed, spent and weeping softly, against his welcoming arms.

When she had quieted, Albus asked her gently. "Do you want to talk about it?"

She tensed in his arms, relaxing again as he traced soothing circles on her back as he had done for Diana as a baby. "No, but you need to hear it and I need to tell it." The trace of her usual humor reassured him slightly, but he knew that he would hate whatever she said next. She expressed her desire to him, and with a wave of his hand Albus rearranged the pillows behind her and propped her up against them, drawing back a little to observe her properly.

"You found out how I was taken," she asserted. Albus nodded: he had gotten the name of every person in the square that day, copies of all twenty-eight testimonials and the Auror's report through quasi-legal channels, and had grilled the poor Order members until they began actively avoiding him. "I was thrown into a cell in the basement of a manor—a different one from the one you found me in. They took me to see You-Know—Voldemort the next morning." Minerva trembled a little as she said the monster's chosen name; Albus took her hand encouragingly. "I can't—will you watch it?" she asked him quietly.

Albus nodded despite his misgivings. If she had lived it, he could watch it. Just remember that she's here now. She's safe.

flashback

She was roughly hooded and then taken away by portkey. Her feet had barely touched the ground when the bag was ripped from her head and she stumbled forward—straight towards the smiling monster seated before her. "Ah, Minerva, it's good to see you again."

Minerva looked over at the…creature before her and silenced the urge to shiver. "I wish I could say the same for you, Tom." She would call him Tom because she had known him as such—and because he hated it—but he no longer bore any resemblance to the boy she had known. He was no longer even remotely human.

Voldemort laughed harshly. "Are you afraid of me, Minerva?"

"No," she replied steadily, meeting his red eyes with only the slightest hesitation.

Voldemort smiled evilly. "You lie."

Minerva's green eyes flashed in anger and alarm and she slammed her mental shields down forcefully. Voldemort winced as he was thrown bodily from her mind hard enough to toss him back against his seat with a thump. Two of his followers rushed forward thoughtlessly, but he drove them back with a wave of his hand. He frowned angrily at Minerva, who was enjoying a brief moment of victory.

"So he's taught you Occulmency, has he?" Voldemort whispered softly. Then he began to smile, and Minerva's heart dropped into her stomach. "Well then, let's see if the old man's as bad a teacher now as he was fifty years ago…" Voldemort descended the dais swiftly and grabbed Minerva's chin roughly, forcing her to face him.

She met his rage-red eyes and screamed—

end flashback

Albus was brought out of Minerva's memory abruptly, echoes of her agony still ringing in his mind.

"I told him nothing," she said softly, the tremors in her voice and body so slight that Albus inferred them there.

"I know," he replied, pained. "I know." What could he say? Albus stared at his hands. His clean, unmarked, unbroken hands. Seven days…

"I want to teach Harry," she said suddenly.

"All right." He did not look up. What did it matter anymore? Harry could not betray their secret now—it had already been done. And Minerva had paid the price for it. They will pay for this, he thought vengefully, filled with an anger that had been unfamiliar before her kidnapping. They will pay dearly for this.

"The manor you mentioned—the first one—whose was it?" Albus asked Minerva carefully.

"I think that it was Malfoy's," she admitted. Minerva did not miss the flash of fury that darted across Albus's features. "I can't tell you for certain," she added quickly. "He was careful never to allow me to see him without a mask."

"You knew his scent, though." It was not a question.

"Yes."

"I'll—" Albus stopped abruptly as another thought occurred to him.

He had not hid his satisfaction well enough. "What did you do to him?" Minerva asked warily, her lips thinning.

"I did nothing to Malfoy."

Minerva continued watching him expectantly.

Albus sighed. "Severus beat me to it."

She gasped. "What?"

"Severus killed Malfoy in the gardens while we were escaping."

Minerva's tear-filled green eyes told of a tragedy. Albus wondered at her reaction to the death of one of Voldemort's Inner Circle, but all the pieces fell into place with her next words. "Oh, Severus…"

Albus's eyes widened in realization. Severus…

A/N: It's a bridge and a reminder and not much ofa chapter, I know. Sorry. My beta's got exams and I've got APs, so I think I might have to wait till like May 10th to start writing again. I'll try my best to make up for it then, though.

My thanks to Silverthreads, foci (tried to briefly answer your question), kyer, duj, Marleen (I may ship Severus/Diana some other time...), and Lady Urguentha. Next chapter will follow the Lucius fallout and will hopefully explain more of Severus's current mindset.

Please review!