Disclaimer: Harry Potter things aren't mine. They are J.K. Rowling's.
Professor Dumbledore awoke about two hours later. He adjusted his half-moon spectacles, since they became rather crooked during his nap. He noticed that Professor McGonagall was still peacefully asleep, curled up very close to Albus. Her face displayed a tranquil smile, and she seemed very much at ease. He didn't want to wake her, so, using his free hand, he reached over to the coffee table and picked up the latest issue of Transfiguration Weekly. He read through it while waiting patiently for Minerva to wake up.
About half an hour later, Dumbledore felt the woman beside him stir. He closed the magazine and replaced it on the coffee table. Then he turned to see if Minerva had awakened. Minerva's stunning green eyes were shining up at him, and she was still smiling. Albus ran a hand through her silky black hair, which had come out of its tight bun, and said, "Hello again, my dear sleepyhead. How was your nap?"
"Restful," she answered groggily, sitting up. Her eyes turned from Albus and squinted, scanning the table for her glasses. Dumbledore reached over to the table and picked up the square spectacles.
"Looking for these?" he asked, handing them to her.
"Thank you, Albus," Minerva replied, placing them over her dazzling eyes. At this moment, she began to cough forcefully. In between coughs, she requested weakly, "Can you get me that bag of cough drops over there?" She pointed to a bureau against the opposite wall but noticed that the package was not there. She frowned, but then she realized that Albus had already summoned them. Once her coughing fit ended, Minerva smiled graciously and thanked him again. She popped a drop into her mouth and shoved the bag into her robes' pocket. Sucking on the cough drop, she snuggled back into Albus's beard. Albus embraced her gently in response.
"Still tired, my dear?" he asked, running his fingers through her ebony hair once more.
Minerva nodded into his beard and lifted her face out of his long white beard. She looked into his sparkling blue eyes and murmured, "A little." She rested her head on Dumbledore's shoulder and asked, "What time is it?"
Dumbledore checked his watch and answered, "Almost noon. Are you hungry?"
After a moment of thought, Minerva said, "Just a bit." She yawned and then continued, "Are we going to the Great Hall, Albus?"
"Do you feel well enough to head back down?" Albus asked with a hint of concern in his eyes. Professor McGonagall sniffed and shook her head. Dumbledore pulled the tartan blanket back over his Deputy's body and said, "I'll call a house-elf for you, then."
Professor McGonagall blew her nose with her tartan handkerchief and then said, "Thank you."
"You're always welcome, Minerva," he told her. "Would you like to eat now?"
Minerva nodded in response. "Soup," she murmured. "Could you ask for soup, Albus?" She looked up at him with weary eyes.
Dumbledore smiled faintly and replied, "Of course." He stroked her hair again when she drew even closer to him. He could feel her shivering feverishly against his body, and, for the second time that day, Albus felt Professor McGonagall's forehead. She was still running a fever. Albus lightly kissed her temple and embraced her for a moment before whispering, "Come, let's get you some soup." He caught Minerva smile sheepishly and turn pink while he slowly pulled away. Then he called a house-elf.
"Noel has arrived, Headmaster Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall!" Noel the house-elf said when he arrived. "What is Headmaster Dumbledore needing from Noel?"
"Could you please bring some soup and whatever is on the today's menu for lunch? Professor McGonagall and I will be having lunch in her rooms today," Dumbledore said.
"Noel will get right on it, Headmaster!" the elf exclaimed. Dumbledore smiled and thanked him.
Right after Noel disappeared, Professor McGonagall asked, "You're not going down to the Great Hall for lunch, Albus?"
"Did you think I was going to leave you, dear? Of course I planned to stay with you for lunch," Albus said. "You don't mind, do you, Minerva?"
"Not at all! I just didn't know you were staying," said Minerva. "It's very thoughtful of you."
"I'm glad you think so," Albus said, just as Noel reappeared. Making space on the coffee table, he said, "Thank you, Noel."
"You are welcome, Headmaster!" Noel said, placing the tray of food on the table. He bowed, and popped away. Once he was gone, both Minerva and Albus eyed the tray of food on the table. There was a steaming pot of chicken noodle soup and a plate of sandwiches. There was also a small container filled with lemon drops, which the elves must have gotten especially for Dumbledore, who had a sweet tooth.
Professor McGonagall sat up straight, and Professor Dumbledore leaned over toward the coffee table to ladle some soup into a bowl for Minerva. He carefully turned toward Minerva with the bowl of soup and dipped a spoon into the bowl. He brought the spoon back out of the bowl, now filled with heart-shaped noodles, a small piece of chicken, and broth, he brought it to Minerva's lips.
"Albus, you don't have to spoon-feed me. I'm perfectly capable of feeding myself," said Minerva.
"I know that," Dumbledore replied. "I just want to."
Minerva looked slightly amused and obediently sipped the soup off the spoon.
"It's really quite hot," Minerva said, grimacing slightly. Albus drew the spoon away and blew gently on it to cool it off.
"How is it now?" he asked, after feeding Minerva another sip of soup.
"Much better," she said, flashing another pleasant smile. Albus grinned in return.
Minerva didn't usually like having somebody else take care of her; she was a strong, capable woman. However, she was strangely enjoying this treatment from Albus, who also seemed to happy to be with her. A small smile formed out of her lips as Albus continued to feed her. Realizing how hungry she actually was, Minerva (or Albus, rather) quickly emptied the bowl. Dumbledore refilled the bowl and resumed feeding Minerva, who was eating rather ravenously.
"I'm glad you're enjoying the soup, dear," Albus said, as he gave her yet another spoonful of chicken noodle soup. When this bowl was almost empty, Minerva asked, "Aren't you going to eat, Albus?"
"As soon as you're finished, I will," Albus assured her.
"It's all right. I'm not hungry anymore. So eat," Professor McGonagall said firmly. "You deserve to have your lunch, too."
"Are you sure?" Dumbledore asked.
"Yes, Albus," Minerva said. "I'll just relax a bit while you eat."
"All right, if you say so," Albus said, "but do not hesitate to ask me for anything, okay?"
"I won't," Minerva said. "Now eat. I know you're hungry."
Albus smiled. He was quite hungry, and, although he made no obvious or subtle sign of it, Minerva knew. He picked up a plate and a sandwich and began to eat. Meanwhile, Professor McGonagall leaned a piece of parchment against a thick book and scrawled swiftly across it. There was a small stack of parchment on the floor beside the sofa and an inkwell on the coffee table. Albus polished off one sandwich and turned to her. With a mixed expression of feigned-anger and humor on his face, he swallowed his last bit of sandwich. He shook his head out of mild amusement.
"Minerva, what are you doing?" he asked, fully knowing exactly what she was doing. If he hadn't known the Transfiguration teacher so well, he would have been surprised by her actions.
"Grading sixth-year homework," she answered. She glanced up at him when she said this but didn't stop marking up the parchment.
"I thought we agreed you would relax," Albus said, pretending to be disappointed in her. He actually admired her hard-working nature, her motivation to get work done no matter what. He should have known that if she couldn't teach that day, she would accomplish something relating to her job.
Professor McGonagall paused. "I am," she said, but she realized that grading papers what not Albus's idea of relaxation. Dumbledore gave her a look that meant "You-know-what-I-meant-when-I-said-'relax.'" She sighed before continuing, "Albus, I am simply grading papers, not battling a horde of trolls. I wouldn't classify this as 'overexertion.'"
"I wouldn't call it 'relaxation,' either, my dear," Dumbledore countered with twinkling eyes.
Professor McGonagall sighed again. She wasn't really in the mood for arguing, but she also wanted to get some work done. She looked at him pleadingly.
"Can't you just let me do this?"
"I know how important your work is to you, but right now your first priority should be your health," said Dumbledore sternly.
"Albus, I'm going to be so behind on my work tomorrow if I don't do this," Minerva said.
Dumbledore thought for a moment. "Allow me to propose an idea," he began. "Since you are ill, and I know you're tired, you will take a nap. During this time, I will do your grading."
Professor McGonagall considered the plan. "It's tempting, Albus, but I rarely sleep during the day. Two naps in one day would be unheard of!" she told him. "May I simply lie down, and perhaps chat with you while you do my work?"
"Do you promise not to get some other work to do while I'm not looking?" Albus questioned, knowing that she definitely could find some other work.
"I promise," the Transfiguration teacher said.
"Then it's a deal?"
"It's a deal."
Minerva handed Albus the stack of parchment, her inkwell, and quill. He brought them over to the desk against the side wall and set them down. Minerva adjusted herself into a lying-down position and tried to get comfortable. Albus walked over to her and conjured a couple soft pillows and placed them behind her head. Minerva smiled and murmured some thanks as she pulled the tartan blanket over herself.
"Rest, my darling Minerva," Albus said, planting a kiss on her forehead, before strolling over to the desk to work.
TBC...
A/N: This is longer than I originally anticipated. I hope you enjoying it, though! - Erin