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Chapter 2

Albus stepped out of the fireplace and immediately began brushing the remaining floo dust from his robes and humming softly to himself. When he looked up, the first person he saw was Minerva and the mere sight of her took his breath away. Her cheeks were flushed a little and a little wisp of her hair was threatening to fall around her cheek. He greeted her with a warm smile, pleased to find her making herself at home in his office while she waited.

"Ah, I see you've found a book to pique your interests while I was away," he commented as he took a few steps towards her.

"What…I was just…I mean…I didn't mean to…" Minerva inwardly cursed her brain for failing to form a coherent sentence or even a string of words that might be comprehensible. She had been caught and there was no turning back now. She would simply have to admit to being overly curious and let the events unfurl around her.

Albus looked at her oddly as he stepped so near she was sure he could hear her heart beating furiously in her chest. His long finger reached out and tapped the book she was clutching to her chest. "The book," he commented as he pulled it from her arms slowly, "is one of my favorites. I believe the author did an excellent job in telling his story," he assured her. He noticed an odd look pass over her face, as if a wave of relief had crashed inside her though he couldn't fathom why she would be so upset. "I do hope you realize that anything I have is at your disposal and I certainly don't mind you entering my office in search of things. It's my pleasure to share with you what I own and I hope I didn't offend you by commenting on the book," he said as he handed it back to her. He was surprised when she clutched the book tightly to her chest.

Minerva swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat and laughed nervously. "Oh no, you couldn't possibly have offended me. I was startled by your sudden appearance that's all. I was engrossed in your book collection and lost track of time." She allowed him to lead her through the office and into his private sitting room, all the while trying to regain her composure.

"I hope you don't mind but I took the liberty of ordering some of your favorites for us. Since you were kind enough to postpone your lunch, it was the least I could do to have such a lovely lady share a meal with me."

Minerva still clung to the book in her hands, perhaps out of security or the fact that she hadn't realized she was still grasping it so strongly to her chest. As Albus held out the chair for her to be seated, he reached down and was surprised when he met resistance at taking the book from her. "My dear, I promise not to discard it before you have a chance to read it properly. Though, I think it would be easier if you were to relinquish your hold on it while we eat," he teased, hoping to lighten her odd mood.

"Sorry," she replied as she loosened her grip and allowed him to set the book on a nearby table. Once more her cheeks flushed and she directed her attention to her now folded hands lying idly in her lap.

Albus could easily see there was something upsetting Minerva, though perhaps upsetting was the wrong choice of words. Distracting her was more to the point. He squatted down beside her chair and took one of her hands in his, holding it gently but firmly in his much larger hand. The back of his free hand glided across her flushed cheek and stayed there briefly, enjoying both the softness and warmth of her skin.

The air around them grew thick and intense for a long moment as his eyes searched hers for answers. Finding none, he pulled back a little. "Are you feeling alright this afternoon? If you're not up to lunch, we can postpone this and I'll walk you back to your rooms." In truth, he didn't want to postpone lunch with Minerva. He'd been looking forward to it since the staff meeting had ended but if she wasn't feeling well, he wouldn't force her to stay.

"Oh no, please. I'm fine," she answered rather quickly. She could tell by the look in his eyes that he was worried about her and that warmed her heart. Secretly, she wished she had the courage to admit to him that he'd nearly caught her peering into his private journal…a journal filled with images of her at various meetings and such…but his private journal none the less. "I've been looking forward to lunching with you this afternoon and unless you've gone off the idea…"

"Absolutely not! I truly enjoy the times we're able to spend together and it's rare that we have the opportunity to dine together in a more intimate setting than the Great Hall," he chuckled.

Soon, the table was filled with many of Minerva's favorites from the Hogwarts kitchens. As they ate and chatted amicably, the tension in the room eased considerably, though Minerva thought she'd caught Albus staring intently at her on more than one occasion. Her mind began to race with images of him sketching her once she had retired to her own rooms and wondering how many drawings he'd actually done of her. When she realized her attention was being drawn into her own thoughts instead of his conversation, she quickly snapped her attention back to him and pushed those thoughts from her mind until she was alone once more.

Albus remained standing by the door to his office long after Minerva departed. His thoughts replayed over their lunch and more importantly the time leading up to it since he had returned from his meeting. Minerva had been distracted and nervous but for no reason he could discern. She had borrowed books from him on numerous occasions and he saw no reason why a muggle storybook should cause such a reaction. With a sigh of frustration he moved towards his desk. Obviously this was not a problem that would be solved in a few minutes time or without some insight from the woman in question.

As he sat down he caught sight of his sketchbook and chided himself for leaving it out in plain view. He usually kept it in the bottom drawer of his desk which was warded to dissuade those who might be a tad too curious. Armando, the Headmaster before him, had learned by example and Albus decided to heed the warning. He picked up the book to put it away but stopped and opened it to the back page instead. After all he had a while to spare before his presence was required. His latest drawing was coming along nicely but was still unfinished. He picked up his quill and was about to make a stroke to fill in a detail on her robes when he set it down. He realized it was not the drawing he wished to be working on at the moment.

Albus stood and moved toward the back of the office, his robes silent in the room. A door toward the back, mostly overlooked by those who visited, beckoned him. He touched his wand to it, muttering a password, and watched as it swung open. As he stepped inside he had to momentarily cover his eyes until they adjusted to the bright sun shining through a window which took up the entire far wall, floor to ceiling. The other three walls were covered by a few shelves of books, a couple of cabinets and dozens of cloth covered canvases. A single chair sat in the middle of the floor, the blue cloth faded and stained by paint of every color and shade. Near the chair stood a large easel which held an equally large canvas, covered by a large white sheet, similar to the others scattered around the room.

He moved toward his current piece of work with a thoughtful expression on his face. His lunch with Minerva had given him an idea on how to proceed with a portion of the painting which had been causing him several lost nights sleep of late. He removed the white cloth and flung it over the chair behind him absently. His eyes were locked on the canvas before him as he viewed the scene he had created with a critical eye. Months of work had culminated in this single painting and he knew it would be his greatest masterpiece when it was complete.

The trees in the background were not nearly finished but the lake glistened in the sunlight of the picture. The main figure rested on a tartan blanket, a book resting on her lap and her head tilted slightly toward the sun as she looked back out at her creator. Dark hair, free of its restraining bun, flowed down her back, a few wisps caught in a delicate breeze. Her face held a relaxed and happy smile, something Albus believed he had captured expertly. However, her eyes, those beautiful green eyes, were all wrong.

"Minerva my dear," he said softly to his painting, "I believe I have finally figured it out."

Time seemed to pass by quickly as he retrieved his supplies and went to work. It was several hours later before he looked up, finally satisfied with all he had completed. The trees had been filled in and the eyes, her eyes, were perfect. His painting, his masterpiece was complete. He whispered a spell to dry the paint and covered the canvas. The sun was setting soon and he had business to attend to before dinner was served in the Great Hall.

The next few days found Minerva oddly preoccupied with her own thoughts and theories on the book she had seen in Albus' office. More than once, she started to confess her curiosity to him, only to stop for first one reason then another. She had never been more thankful to have a hectic teaching schedule, if for no other reason than to offer her some respite from the thoughts plaguing her every waking minute. She even found herself looking forward to the distraction of an evening out with her friends.

"Alright, Mervie…come clean. We all know you've been thinking heavily on something and it's time you told us what it is," Xiomara demanded as she returned to their private table at the Three Broomsticks with drinks in hand.

"Yes. I was going to bring that up myself tonight, Minerva. I haven't seen you this distracted since you were worrying yourself to death over our N.E.W.T.'s. Out with it or we'll have to get you drunk and then pull it from you." Poppy had a mischievous gleam in her eyes as she stared at her best friend.

Minerva took the gillywater and looked at her friends, one by one, for a moment then sipped her drink. "I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about. I simply have a lot on my plate at the moment with the students and various duties as Deputy Head."

"BOLLOCKS and you know it. Ever since you had that private lunch with our esteemed Headmaster…in his private chambers no less…you've been so out of it that even the students are wondering what's going on in your head. I think they're even talking about you in a more personal nature, if you can go by the chatter on the quidditch pitch."

Minerva nearly choked on her drink and had a hard time regaining her composure. The look on Xiomara Hooch's face left no room for debate. Her inattentiveness had been noticed by the students and surely if they noticed, Albus had too. Perhaps he had just been more of a gentleman and said nothing, hoping that she would come to him if something were truly bothering her that much.

"And in the greenhouses as well," Pomona Sprout added with a wink. "I do believe I heard a pair of your young cubs discussing whether or not their Head of House had caught a case of spring fever this late in the year," she giggled. "My gracious the language they were using…never in my life would I have used those words about my professor," she finished, sounding somewhat scandalized at the mere memory of what she'd overheard.

Minerva felt her face flush at the prospect of her personal life being a topic of discussion among anyone, especially students. "I hope you both set the students straight and reminded them that our personal business is not a concern of theirs. They should be focusing on learning the materials we cover in classes and preparing for their exams instead of whether or not I may or may not have someone in my life." Minerva made a mental note to ask Pomona exactly what the students had been saying at a more convenient time and place. As it was, it would not be a good idea to give Xiomara Hooch any more information for fear that she'd somehow use it to her advantage at a later date.

"Here, have another drink," Xiomara laughed. "If any of us needs one, it's definitely you, Miss Uptight and Personal!" Hooch watched as Minerva, not paying attention, downed the glass of Ogdens Firewhisky without giving a second thought then sputtered several curses at her friend in a decidedly rougher tone of voice.

It took Minerva several moments to recover but when she did, she finally admitted to her friends that something had been weighing on her mind. "I will admit that I have been…somewhat preoccupied of late."

"Ha," cackled Xiomara. "Tell us something we don't know."

Minerva glared at the witch and continued as though not hearing her. "AND," she stated loudly, "it has to do with finding out something rather unexpected."

At that pronouncement the table quieted and all three of her friends leaned forward. "I know you are just trying to help but for now this is something I simply have to work through on my own." She could tell by their disappointed faces that they wanted to know more but for the moment, she wasn't willing to share. She was still trying to come to terms with the fact that hidden in Albus' office was a book dedicated solely to her and she apparently had captured his attention in ways even she had never dreamed possible.

"But we're your best friends, Minerva. If you can't confide in us, who can you trust?" Poppy asked, sounding more and more animated thanks to the drinks being poured freely. "Besides, we might know a way to help and you'll never know until you share. Didn't I come to you when I was having a spot of trouble with Alastor and that hussy who was trying to get his attention? Why if it hadn't been for you, she might still be after him."

Xiomara and Pomona both looked at each other, sharing a decidedly curious glance between them. Neither of them had been aware of any trouble between Poppy and Alastor but apparently Minerva had done something to help. "Care to enlighten the rest of us, dearies?" Pomona asked as she looked first to Poppy and then Minerva.

"It's not my business to share," Minerva answered curtly. "Let's just say that one of Alastor's colleagues needed a little reminder about his personal life and I was just the witch to give it to her. Sometimes it helps to have a fierce McGonagall temper and the ability to make people shiver beneath a stern glare," she laughed softly.

Round after round of drinks, Minerva found it increasingly hard to steer the conversation to other topics and the other witches around her. It was starting to infuriate her how no matter what the topic seemed to be, they always found a way to point it back to Minerva and her current situation. It took quite some doing but she was able to maintain her privacy, even as the drinks loosened both her tongue and her mind. It wasn't until Xiomara mentioned continuing the discussion and drinking back at Hogwarts in her rooms that Minerva felt it truly was time to call it a night. Otherwise, it might just be possible for them to get her drunk enough to start talking about her discovery.

Much to the protest of everyone seated at the table, Minerva bid them all a good night and made her way back to Hogwarts. Once back in the safety of her own rooms, Minerva sat in front of her vanity table and absentmindedly brushed through her long locks of hair. Images from the book floated in front of her hazy mind and she found herself lost in speculation and questions. When did she capture his attention? Had she said or done something so profound that he wanted to preserve the moment on parchment for all time so he began sketching her? Or was it that maybe, just maybe, she had captured his attention in some other, more basic way…the way a woman attracts a man?

As she climbed into bed that night, her head beginning to pound already from her drinks and her thoughts, she smiled. Either way, out of all the witches in the world, she had managed to somehow captivate the most handsome wizard in the world. Now the only thing left was to decide just what that meant, for both their sakes.

Albus looked toward the pile of parchment on his desk and sighed. He had been letting his correspondence pile up for the last couple of days, answering only if it was urgent, and now that he was faced with several hours of formulating responses he realized, not for the first time, that putting off his mail was a very bad habit indeed.

Of course Minerva had tried to break him of it for years with no luck. He usually blamed his unchanging nature on his old age which always made her scoff. He smiled in response to the image of her face drawn into a look of disbelief. Their usual banter after his pronouncement echoed in his head.

"What about the 'you're as old as you believe yourself to be' speech you give every year? Why if I am to follow your sage advice in this situation, I think you should be more than capable of learning to answer your mail on a daily basis. It is only a few minutes of your time after all. And you would be able to avoid such unpleasantries as this conversation which we seem to have on a regular basis," she would say with mock severity.

His response was always the same.

"You should know by now my dear that I find no conversation with you unpleasant."

And so was hers.

"Flattery will get you nowhere Albus. Now let's get started."

Though Minerva always helped him to tame his piles of correspondence, neither of them ever mentioned that is was not necessary for her to stay and help. Nor did either of them mention just how much they enjoyed their time together and the banter they shared as they discussed things. And not once, even to themselves, did either mention that perhaps Minerva's company was the reason Albus continued to be as irresponsible in the matter as he was.

However, tonight was an entirely different matter as Minerva was out having drinks with her friends so he was left to his own devices. And with all his thoughts centered on Minerva, and avoiding work, it was inevitable that his mind turned to less pleasant matters, namely those of Minerva's gradual but steady withdrawal into herself which had occurred in the past week. Her distraction, which when thinking back had started during the lunch they had shared together last weekend, had progressed throughout the week to the point of causing him great worry.

He had to admit that those first few days he had hardly noticed. After all, he was so pleased by his finished painting that everything seemed to be going well, at least in his eyes. It wasn't until he overheard Poppy speaking with Xiomara about Minerva's odd behavior that he really began to study her. And that was when he realized that she would only glance in his direction at meals rather than really look at him the way she used to when they spoke. Also, her visits by his office had dramatically decreased to only the required two per day. And by the end of the week, her conversations with him and others were more reactive than thoughtful. He meant to speak with her about it, to see what was bothering her to such a degree, but no good opportunity had presented itself.

Rather than reach for the top letter in his stack, Albus' hand drifted to his warded drawer and withdrew his journal. He opened it to a few random pages studying the woman within. His finger would trace a line here and there as if trying to commit certain expressions or movements to memory more so than they already were. He finally laid the book on his desk and looked at the last drawing which was now complete.

"What is wrong Minerva? Why are you so distant from everyone of late?"

His question was answered but not by the picture in front of him.

"I believe I may have the answer you seek," said a portrait behind him.

Albus knew that voice well and very slowly turned around closing his journal in the process. "Really Phineas, and how is it you know Minerva's thoughts?"

A sly smile spread across the old Headmaster's face. "I have my sources."

"Indeed," Albus replied blandly before turning back around to finally begin his work. Phineas was well known for his creative lies and deception.

"You don't have to believe me. I know what I saw in your office before you arrived for lunch last weekend."

This had his attention and once again Albus focused on the portrait. "And what is it that you saw?"

"Oh it certainly won't be that easy. Perhaps we should revisit our conversation about access to a new portrait…" Phineas did not get to finish his sentence.

"Absolutely not."

"Now Albus, are you telling me that finding out what Minerva did while you are away is not worth a little effort on your part. If that is the case, I am more than capable of keeping my information to myself." Phineas waited a few minutes but when no response appeared to be coming started to settle in for another nap.

"Very well, I will speak with my brother about having access to the painting on the wall of his establishment. But conditions will apply, if I can even convince him to let you enter."

Aberforth had only one painting on his walls. It was behind the bar and depicted a scene of the Hog's Head on its opening day. The pub actually looked quite respectable, perhaps for the only time in its life. However, due to the fact that Aberforth's regular clientele leaned toward being suspicious in nature it was to his benefit to keep his walls clear of nosy inhabitants.

"What conditions," Phineas asked suspiciously.

"You can not, under any circumstances be seen. If you are noticed at any time, your access will be revoked."

"I can live with that," the old Headmaster said with obvious pleasure in his voice.

"Now tell me what you saw," Albus said without preamble.

Phineas paused as if deciding whether he could squeeze more out of Albus but decided against it. "She arrived early and then made a bit of a ruckus. When I looked up from my disrupted nap I saw her snooping in that blue journal of yours you are always writing in. I am not sure what she saw but it obviously shocked her. I've never seen such an expression on her face..."

Albus heard nothing else of what Phineas continued on about because there was a dull roar in his ears and his heart had started to beat rather quickly. He leaned back in his chair, his hands gripping their respective rests until his knuckles turned white.

Minerva had seen his sketches of her.

TBC…