A/N - thanks for the reviews and support for this story. It took an unexpected turn in this part - I hope you think it works.

Part 10

"That cup has been part of the school's china collection for over 200 years. The Reparo spell won't work on it – perhaps you ought to put it down before the worst happens?" Roused from her reverie, Minerva glanced down and discovered that she was clutching the fragile cup just a little too tightly. Sheepishly she placed it back onto the table and looked towards the person who had been so concerned with its safety.

"Thank you Headmaster, although if I were you I'd be more concerned about how the china collection will fare when it has Albus to protect it."

"I shudder to think." They shared a quick smile; "perhaps I should warn the house elves not to let him have access to it too often."

"That might be wise." Her gaze drifted across the room to where the man in question was still absorbed in conversation with the rather beautiful advisor to the Romanian Minister of Magic. As she stretched out a hand to touch Albus' arm, again, Minerva entirely failed to suppress her hiss of annoyance. Although she only realised her response had been audible when Armando started to chuckle.

"You have to give her points for persistence Minerva. She's been trying to seduce him since she arrived. I don't think she is used to being resisted for so long – in fact I don't think she is used to men failing to notice when she is offering, well – everything."

"You think he doesn't realise? I can assure you Albus is very aware of what is going on."

"I'm sure he is – I just think he had decided that appearing not to notice is the best strategy for dealing with the matter without creating what would be tantamount to a diplomatic incident."

Minerva narrowed her eyes – trying to decide if Armando was right. She had scarcely seen Albus in the last few days and there had been no opportunity to quiz him about his latest admirer. "I'm sure Albus wouldn't object to being rescued if you can think of a pretext."

"Our guest doesn't like me much," she commented and though she didn't say that the feeling was mutual, she got the impression that Armando already realised that.

"No, well I'm sure she senses a rival." Minerva knew she must have looked alarmed at this and Armando hastened to reassure her. "She has no idea of the true state of affairs between you and Albus of course – but it's obvious that you are close friends and that might be enough to mark you as a threat, an obstacle in her attempts to well…"

"Seduce my husband," she concluded dryly.

She was glad that Armando had no idea just how complicated things were between them. He probably thought the Governors' requirement that the new headmaster be married had done them a favour – spurred them into formalising their existing relationship. They'd worked very hard to make sure that was what he thought and only occasionally did she feel guilty about just how much they were deceiving him.

Over the course of a long, hard winter she and Albus had struggled to manage their feelings and to find a way to restore their friendship. Spring had arrived just a few weeks ago and with it, finally, had come the feeling that they had survived the worst.

In the long hours before dawn, on the nights when sleep eluded her, she knew that it was her fault, her cowardice. Any other woman would have leapt at the chance of being loved by such a man, of loving him back. Certainly her refusal to allow their relationship to develop made her reaction to seeing him with another woman absurd. But that didn't change the fact that she was used to being the one who was closest to him and now, for whatever reason, he was absorbed by someone else. And she was unsettled.

She knew they would never have found a way to be at ease with each other again had it not been for Albus' determination. He had been the one to instigate the chess games, quiet dinners and fireside chats that had lasted into the early hours of the morning. It must have been difficult for him to sit beside her, hour after hour and not talk about their feelings. But he had asked nothing more of her than her company and gradually they had found a way. It had become, if not easier to be together then at least not so difficult.

She felt as though she knew more about him now than before. Though he was naturally reticent, perhaps even secretive, he had talked to her more about his life, his hopes and his fears. For the first time she had realised just how deeply involved he was in the affairs of the Ministry, how important he was to the ongoing peace and security of their world.

She hadn't exactly reciprocated this candour, but she had spoken a little about her childhood. He was perceptive enough to read between the lines and guess at the details she had omitted. But he had scarcely commented, offering only that he understood now why she had left academia behind to teach a younger age group. The insight was a good one – she'd loved research but hated the insular world of the University; finding it stifling and full of egos. She'd been surprised to feel so at home in an equally closed community. But shaping and guiding young minds had made all the difference in the world.

Their discussion had an interesting side-effect, for the first time in years she was returning to research, gathering material for a series of articles. Her tentative approach to a journal had been met by a surprisingly enthusiastic response. Albus had encouraged her of course, discussing the subject when she had raised it, wary of offering advice unless she directly requested that of him. He had been so careful not to interfere – to ensure that the work was something of her own.

"Is Albus all right?" She looked back at Armando, startled by his question. "He's been looking tired recently. I know taking over as Headmaster feels like a daunting task, but he is more than equal to it Minerva."

"I know he is," she glanced back across the room, taking the time to really look at Albus. Armando was right she decided, he did look tired.

The convenient, easy explanation was that although this was the Easter holidays he'd had little opportunity to take a break. The Governors' had organised a series of events to mark Armando's retirement and Albus' presence at all of these had been mandatory. And that was before the Minister of Magic decided to hold secret, high level talks with a visiting delegation at Hogwarts. It was entirely unreasonable for the school to be at the centre of such political manoeuvrings, for them to be playing host without knowing what was really happening, but there was little they could do to prevent it.

"He has been rather busy in recent weeks," she said, offering the diplomatic answer.

"Perhaps you could exert your influence to get him to rest."

"I can try," she didn't say that her success would entirely depend on the outcome of these discussions. She wasn't naive enough to believe that Hogwarts had been chosen as a venue because of the castle's aesthetics. If politics had come to the school only one reason, or rather one person, had brought it here. "If you'll excuse me," she murmured softly to her companion. His eyes flashed with mischief as she stood.

"Should I expect an international incident?" he enquired.

"Of course not," she replied. "I'm far more subtle than that."

The conversation was not sufficiently absorbing – so Albus had no difficulty in following Minerva's progress across the room. She moved with a controlled grace that reminded him of the cat she sometimes became. He felt familiar warmth spread through him at the realisation that, despite an entirely circuitous route, she was heading in his direction.

He noticed with interest that many people stopped her – trying to involve her into their conversations. She didn't believe it yet, but her appointment as Head of Gryffindor was likely to draw her into the public eye, give her a profile and level of influence that she deserved – even though she might not entirely welcome it.

He was glad to see her smile. It had been a long few months and there had been times when he had feared that she would retreat entirely from him – and from everyone else.

He'd never pursued a woman like this, although, in fact it was scarcely a pursuit. Perhaps he had grown accustomed to women being more interested in him than he was in them. Surely he had never thought so much about his interactions with one person, never tried so hard to peel away his own layers of defences.

For the first time in a very long time he wanted someone to see beyond his strength and abilities. He wanted her to understand what made him vulnerable, what he feared. It was the only way really, the only thing he could do to help Minerva overcome her fears.

There were times when he thought it was working, times when their intimacy, without as much as a kiss or a touch, was staggering. But at other moments he lost hope and believed that things would never change between them. It was some comfort that if they never moved forward they would still have a wonderful friendship – but it wasn't enough.

"Professor Dumbledore?" the sultry voice at his side reminded him that he was neglecting his current companion. He returned his attention to the woman beside him and trepidation replaced the warm glow.

It was perfectly clear that the Romanians were here for a reason, visiting delegations did not randomly descend upon the School – especially when relations between the two countries had been almost non-existent since the end of the war. He didn't believe for a moment that this was a spontaneous good will visit; he had no doubt that there must be something very seriously amiss.

"I'm sorry, my attention wandered for a moment."

"Yes, I can see that." Lucretia Dragomir allowed her gaze to wander in Minerva's direction, her eyes narrowed and he could tell that she was annoyed that he had been watching his fellow teacher so closely. "You've been doing an admirable job of containing your curiosity."

"My curiosity about what?"

"Touche Professor." He knew very well that she would try to use the information she had to entice him. She was intelligent and ambitious and in the political circles she moved in such manoeuvrings were undoubtedly necessary. But this was a different environment and surely, by now, she had realised that he wasn't going to respond to her.

It was irrelevant anyway – because he would find out the Romanians wanted, probably later this evening. And, just at the moment he was more interested in Minerva.

"Good afternoon Professor McGonagall," her travels had finally brought her to their corner of the room.

"Professor Dumbledore, Madam Dragomir." Minerva gave every appearance of being oblivious to the unfriendly look their guest shot her. But he suspected she had given a lot of thought to the way she stepped just a little closer to him, touched his arm and lowered her voice conspiratorially. "Albus, I think the Minister has been trying to find a moment to talk to you for quite a while now."

"Ah, well, perhaps I should not keep him waiting. Thank you for the warning my dear."

Minerva watched him cross the room, completely aware that Madam Dragomir was glaring at her. People often described her as cold and stern, while it was true she found it difficult to express her feelings, she had learnt there were times when this was a decided advantage.

"I hope you are enjoying your stay at Hogwarts," she commented – playing the gracious hostess.

"It is not a question of enjoyment, we are here to deal with a serious matter."

"Of course,"

"But, I think I have underestimated you. You are a far more challenging opponent than I realised." Their gaze locked for a moment and Minerva had no doubt that they were talking about Albus now. The gloves were off and she took a moment – wondering how to respond. She actually considered telling her competitor that she was Madam Dumbledore, and damn the consequences. But, she had not spent months being cautious only to lose her composure now.

"Let me assure you that you have, entirely, misjudged the situation." The words were carefully chosen, and she thought ambiguous. But as she turned away, she realised that Albus had finished his conversation with the Minister and returned to them. The look on his face told her that he had interpreted what he had overheard in a way she had not necessarily intended. She hated how easy it was for her to cause him pain.

But, as though he had realised he had given too much away his expression changed, "Minerva, I am afraid our chess game this evening will have to be postponed. The Minister has asked me to join our Romanian guests for a meeting."

"I understand," she dropped her voice to a whisper, "you think they'll tell you what this is all about?"

"I hope so, will you be awake later if I come to find you?"

"Of course."

Minerva stood in front of the windows in her study. The night was a fine one, the sky a carpet of indigo, in which stars sparkled like diamonds. She had been thinking a great deal about the moment earlier that afternoon, when her careful words in response to Madam Dragomir had caused Albus pain.

She wasn't used to being in a position where her words or her actions could have such an impact on another person. She had hurt him, he had made her jealous – it had been a complicated few hours. It was scarcely fair to blame him for her response to seeing him with another woman, especially when he had done nothing to make it appear he was interested in their Rumanian visitor. Actually it was scarcely fair to be jealous when she had told him their relationship could progress no further.

The tap on the door roused her and although she wasn't surprised by the identity of her visitor, she hadn't been expecting to see him wearing a heavy outdoor gown. Albus looked as though his mind was somewhere else, but he smiled and said, "I feel as though I need some fresh air, will you come for a walk with me?"

"Of course, where are we going?"

"Just to the lake." They spoke little as they walked through darkened corridors, and once outside they continued in silence until she could stand it no longer. It was a spectacular evening; the colours more intense than she'd realised from indoors, the air sharp and cold, but she was scarcely aware of that. Her companion's silence was becoming more worrying by the second and though he was beside her, everything about his demeanour screamed distance.

"Albus, what is it? Something to do with the Rumanians?"

"I need to ask for your help."

"I've already married you – isn't that enough?" For a moment she thought she had said the wrong thing, but then he chuckled, his delighted laughter bubbling forth.

"That's very true – I promise this will not be so onerous."

"What is it?"

" I have to go away for a few weeks, perhaps a little longer. I know my Gryffindors will be in the very best of hands with you. I hope you will also cover some of my transfiguration classes – perhaps the sixth and seventh years?" This was not what she had been expecting. It was almost the beginning of term, over the next few weeks there would be exams to prepare for and there was still much to do before he was ready to take over from Armando. And he was leaving?

"Where are you going, why are you going? Albus this is hardly the best time, can't it wait?"

"I'm afraid it can't." He was silent and she knew that he could not, or would not tell her what was taking him away.

"And clearly you can't talk about it. Is it dangerous, can you tell me that at least?"

"It may be dangerous – but I will not be alone."

"I am sure Madam Dragomir will be delighted to have you as a companion." She hadn't meant to say it, but the words escaped her before she could stop them and once uttered they could not be called back. He sighed heavily,

"Think about what you just said to me Minerva, and why. Think about what it means." She wanted to notice that he had not denied that he would be with Madam Dragomir. But all she could think about was the tone of his voice and the intense look in his eyes. She shook her head, trying to break the spell he had cast over her.

"If I promise to do that, will you promise me that you'll be careful?"

"I have every intention of returning." He didn't say that he would be coming back to her, for her. But she heard and felt the words anyway. She hadn't expected to feel like this; frightened, lonely and incredibly vulnerable. She did not want to part from him like this.

"When do you leave?"

"In the morning. I'll be away for a week, two at the most. I'll be back before you know it."

"Will you stay with me tonight?" She didn't think she had ever seen him as stunned as he was in that moment.

"No." He cupped her face with his hands and pressed a gentle kiss onto her forehead. "If you ever make me that offer again, I want it to be because you mean it, because you want to be with me more than anything, not because you are jealous and confused."

She closed her eyes and nodded, expecting him to let her go. But, when she opened her eyes again he was still looking at her, still touching her. He had not said that he was worried, but now, up close, she could see the concern in his face. Although he had refused her offer, she was glad that he had not let her go. She didn't think twice about stepping towards him, about holding him in her arms and offering him the comfort he would not ask for.

She would deal with her own feelings later, for now all she could think about was him.

TBC