The sun streamed in through the partially closed curtains, bathing a large bed in its soft light. Albus stirred and tightened his hold on the warm body laying beside him. He drifted in that place between dreams and reality where anything and everything is possible. Flashes of their life together played in his mind as he fought against the day. The decision was taken out of his hands when he felt her shift beside him, and her gentle lips descended on his temple, beckoning him. His mouth twitched underneath his long silver beard as his eyes slid open and shut again against the brightness. "Hello," he said sleepily when they reopened, his eyes locking with hers.

"Hi," she replied, letting her hand travel up his chest. She snuggled deeper into his embrace and let out a contented sigh. "I've missed this."

He let his hand travel down her arm and beneath the sheets, his fingers gently grazing the skin. "I've missed it too."

She laughed and slapped him playfully on the chest as he gave her behind a tender squeeze. "That, is not what I meant, and you know it." She paused, "Even if it was amazing. I meant this," she waved her hand for emphases. "Waking up together, being able to spend a few minutes together before the world decides to invade. It's just...perfect."

"Ummm," was his only response, burying his face in her hair. He took a deep breath, catching the scent of vanilla that seemed to follow her . "How long can you stay?" she asked, playing with a loose strand of his beard, trying to braid them with little success. She always complained about waking up with a mouthful of beard, but she just couldn't bring herself to tie it at night.

He groaned and flopped onto his back. "Not long. I have a meeting with out esteemed Minister in an hour. I never thought I would say it, but life may have been easier with Cornelius. Despite last years debacle, I cold control that twit for the most part."

Minerva chuckled. "I'm sure you could. Why then, have I been forced to spend the last three years listening to you complain about that man? You really ought to make up your mind Albus. All of the flipping is most unbecoming," she teased.

Before he had a chance to answer, she kissed him quickly on the tip of his crooked nose and pulled herself out of his arms. He watched, transfixed, as always, when she rose from the sheets and slipped the burgundy silk robe over her bare shoulders and loosely tied it. She turned back and smirked, a look that reminded him far too much of the cat and the cream. "Problem Albus? You're looking a little flushed."

"No my dear, not at all. I was simply admiring the view on this fine morning." His tone was innocent enough, but his words and that gleam in his eyes still was able to make her blush after so many years.

"Yes, well," she stammered, trying to regain the upper hand she had somehow lost, "there will be plenty of time for sight seeing later. If you don't get out of that bed you will be late for your meeting."

"Well, we can't have that," he grumbled, making his way into the bathroom.

"I heard that," echoed from their small study.

"I'm sure you did love."

Albus let his mind wander as he moved through his morning routine. The news of Draco's new task had certainly been a surprise. It also meant that he would have to reevaluate some of his plans. Draco and his father were very much alike. Both were vein, arrogant, and so sure of themselves. But, unfortunately for Draco, and now Severus, there was something the two did not share, an enjoyment of death.

Even as a student, Lucius had a taste, a lust, for it. More than one school owl and pet cat had turned up dead during his tenure, and it had surprised no one when they stopped as he graduated. But, for a reason Albus had yet to discover, young Draco seemed to shy away from the actual act of killing. He could certainly revel in the pain of others, but he seemed unable to finish the act, leaving it, instead, to others.

What only made it worse for him was that Tom seemed to realize it. This was a test, one of the greatest magnitude, one designed to fail. Somehow, Draco had become a liability to the Dark Lord, and he would be treated accordingly. "Not if I can help it," Albus muttered.

Entering the living room, Albus was greeted by the sight of Minerva finishing the preparations for their breakfast. Sitting down, he poured their tea as she put raspberry jam on his toast. "I'm not quite sure what time I might be home tonight Tabby. I want to go and have a talk with Severus. Tom has been far too active this week. It's odd that Severus hasn't been summoned."

Minerva looked at him from over the rim of her tea cup. "You don't suppose he's fallen out of favor? Could he have been discovered?"

Albus shook his head? "I don't think so. If that were the case, Severus would be dead by now."

Minerva made a noise in the back of her throat that sounded remarkably like a grunt. "Well, perhaps he just hasn't been needed. You-Know-Who rarely calls him for every meeting."

"It's possible," he conceded, "let's hope that's all it is." He pecked her on the lips and grabbed a handful of floo powder. "I've always wondered though, just what Severus would be willing to do to remain useful." He disappeared without a second look back.

With an ease that comes from years of practice, Albus rolled out of the fireplace and onto his feet, dusting the soot from his robes. "You're late."

Albus slowly pulled out and glanced down at his unusual pocket watch. He was two minutes early. "Ah, so I am. My apologies."

Rufus Scrimgeour dismissed the apology with an impatient wave as he settled himself behind his new desk. The two men simply stared at each other as Albus joined him, but the Minister was no match for the older wizard. "There was another muggle attack last night, a family in Bath. This makes the fifth in just a week. Auror's have canvassed the area, but no useful clues have come up. You haven't heard anything from your sources?"

Worded as a question, both men knew it was more of an accusation. Albus shook his head. "Bits here and there, but nothing of substance, and I haven't been up to making inquires personally as of late."

Scrimgeour's eyes involuntarily traveled to the charred arm that lay, protected, in Albus' lab instead of on the arm rest like it's twin. "How, exactly, did it happen?"

For a split second, the twinkle left Albus' eyes, but just as quickly it reappeared. "Ir's really not that interesting a story. I was experimenting in my lab, and the ingredients reacted badly. A simple accident really."

Rufus snorted "Maybe, you should have left the experimenting to your potions master. He is, after all, qualified."

Albus genuinely seemed to consider it. "Perhaps you're right. It has been almost a century since I attained my potions mastership. It's possible I'm slipping."

Albus smiled as he watched the Minister squirm over his rim of his glasses. "Yes..umm," Scrimgeour tried to backpedal, "I only meant that your time could be better served on other matters, such as the school's security. How are the enchantments coming?"

"They are on schedule Rufus. The castle will be more than ready for the students when they arrive in September."

"Good, good," Scrimgeour said, moving in front of the fire. "And the students? Have any of them reported any problems since they returned home?"

"Other than Ms. Bones of course, none that I'm aware of." Albus watched the Minister slide his glasses back up his nose and nod. He could already feel the headache settling into his temples.

"I was thinking Albus. I want to invite some of the older students to the Ministry over the next few weeks for a tour. It would give them a chance to see some of the opportunities available after graduation."

"I'm not letting you see Harry Rufus. He's had enough put on his plate as it is. Scrimgeour whirled around and looked down at Albus, all pretensions sliding away. "Is that so?"

"Quite," was all the response he was given. "The boy is a major player in this war Albus, and as Minister, it is well within my rights to council the boy on his options!"

By now Scrimgeour was red in the face and little drops of spittle were flying from his mouth with every word. He watched Dumbledore as he pulled off his spectacles and reached into his robes and pulled out a handkerchief, carefully wiping the drops away. Scrimgeour watched, a grim smile forming, as a furrow appeared between the headmaster's eyebrows.

"I think not." Albus said, replacing his glasses and standing up. "First off, the boy's name is Harry. Second, he hasn't been a boy, unfortunately, for several years now. A fact I learned only recently. And most importantly, I know exactly what kind of 'options' you wish to present. So, let me be crystal clear. I will not let you, or anyone else, use him for political, or personal, gain. Am I understood Minister?"

Albus stared down as scrimgeour fell back into his seat, his eyes burning. "I think we are finished Minister, have a good day." He backed away but stopped as he reached the door and turned around. "And Rufus, next time you send Dawlish to follow me, could you ask him to cut down on the cologne? I could smell him half a kilometer away."

"Where were you going?" Scrimgeour barked. "Rufus," he said as if talking to a small child. "My anniversary is in a week. I was jewelry shopping." Albus turned and left a growling Minister alone.