AN: I just wanted to say thanks again for all of the reviews. Please, keep it up; I am making changes to the story based on your imput. Sorry this chapter is so short, but I'm off to visit my mom this weekend, and I just couldn't leave without an update. Hope it's up to expectations. have a good weekend everybody.
He had been restless all night, tossing back and forth in the silk sheets. To his relief, the sun began to blaze its trail across the sky. Dressing quickly, he moved silently through the empty corridors between his rooms and hers, his body tense with anticipation. The door opened for him without a sound and his eyes fell upon her. She was radiant, just as he remembered her to be. Her cheeks were pink from the warmth of the room, and her hair splayed out around her on the pillow, creating its own type of halo.
The gowns he had provided for her were not distasteful, but he did appreciate his forethought as he watched the hint of bosom rise and fall with each of her breaths. He allowed himself to wonder, something he rarely indulged in anymore. He wondered how her skin tasted, if she would taste as sweet as she smelled. He was curious about the texture of her skin along her back; would she be as smooth as silk, as soft as a new kittens fur? But, most of all, he wondered how she would sound. Would she scream out his name for all the world to hear, or would she whisper it in his ear, a declaration for him alone? His hands clenched as another wave of desire crashed through him, and it took everything he had not to join her, awake or not.
Minerva shifted in her sleep, letting out a soft sigh as the morning's light began to filter into the room, playing against her eyelids. Coming to a stop between the light and the sleeping woman, Albus simply waited. The sigh soon morphed into a groan as consciousness began to wage an unyielding war with her. Her eyelids fluttered, her back arched, and her toes curled as sleep retreated, waiting for another evening. Her full lips smacked together a few times as she sat up, her eyes still partially closed. Easing back into the world, Minerva took in the room around her with a small frown before her eyes fell on Albus. Minerva screamed, jumping with fright, before falling unceremoniously out of the bed.
She landed with a resounding thud at his feet, the sheets wrapping themselves around her limbs, restraining her. He made no move to help as she struggled with her captor, not even bothering to acknowledge her presence. "Damn it Albus," she ground out, forgetting everything but her sore behind for a moment. "What are you doing in here? I promised to meet you for breakfast. Are you just going to stand there?" Her cheeks had flushed again, this time from a mixture of embarrassment and outrage, but she never broke eye contact. She was issuing a challenge, and he was in no mood. He had his own internal battle to wage, and so far, she wouldn't like the result.
He reached down and pulled Minerva to her feet, more roughly than absolutely necessary. "I heard something rather interesting yesterday; do you want to know what it was?" Minerva just rolled her eyes and set about braiding her hair. She already knew what this conversation would be about.
"Please, do enlighten me. What could have caught the eye of the mighty Albus Dumbledore this time? Is it time for the muggle election?" She didn't bother to hide her contempt and smirked inwardly as his eyes flashed hot.
"No, those are actually next month," he said conversationally. "A little bird told me about an interesting house call you paid yesterday. So tell me Minerva, how is Molly these days? I do so hope she's well." Minerva could feel her blood run cold at the irritation and spite infused with every word. Molly appeared to be just another fly buzzing in his ear, one he couldn't be bothered to swat.
"Molly's just wonderful Albus; she sends her love." Minerva plastered a sickeningly sweet smile on her face and settled back, waiting for the explosion. As frightening as it was, an angry Albus was preferable to the aloofness he tried so desperately to portray. But, it never came.
"The next time the guards sweep the area, I'll tell them to drop by with my regards. I know she was your friend Minerva; she was mine as well, but it's different now. That entire family is dangerous Minerva, and you shouldn't be going to see them. It might give people ideas."
Minerva snorted and pointed a shaking finger at him. "Heavens forbid! The world is coming to an end, someone had an actual thought! The last time I checked Albus Dumbledore, I was quite capable of deciding whom to associate with. It's more than enough to have a former student as a babysitter Albus; I don't need another." By the time she was finished, they were standing toe to toe, and only scant inches separated their faces, each flushed.
Minerva watched a muscle twitch just below his right eye; she assumed he was desperately trying to restrain whatever retort had sprung to his twisted mind. She hadn't realized her nightgown had shifted during her tirade. It's long been said that there is but a fine line that separates rage and passion; it was a line Albus had grown far too familiar with over the last two days for his own liking, so he stopped trying to navigate it.
With a shocking speed, his hands shot out and wrapped themselves around her upper arms, gripping them tightly. As quickly as he grabbed her, he released her once again when she couldn't stop the loud yelp that escaped her lips, sounding like a wounded animal. He pulled back as if burned, and Minerva's hands clamped themselves over her mouth, her eyes wide. Her head began to shake and he looked on in confusion until his gaze landed on her arm. The sleeve had slipped farther down, and he could just make out the faintest hint of purple from beneath the fabric.
"Minerva?" he asked, reaching out and taking a step backward.
"It's nothing Albus, I'm fine," she said, doing what she could to keep the distance between them. She knew he didn't believe her; the words were unconvincing, even to her own ears.
He shook his head again, his stance softening as he wrapped his hand around her elbow, gently pulling her forward. Minerva didn't try to pull away, but her eyes were pleading. "Albus, don't."
Ignoring her, Albus reached up and gently lowered the fabric, exposing the blemish to his eyes. Both were so caught up in his discovery that neither noticed as more and more of the nightgown fell away. He stared at the marking, unsure of just what he was seeing. There was a large mass in the center, a deep purple bordering on black with small pockets of red dispersed through it. The odd thing though, were the five thinner bruises, almost tentacles, that seemed to creep away from the center. They were lighter in color, but one stripe had a bulge in the middle of it, and with a flash of comprehension and revulsion, he understood.
He looked her in the eye, willing her to deny it, to tell him anything else, but her downcast eyes and slumped shoulders told him everything he never wanted to know. It was his turn to shake as he fought to control his stomach. His mouth worked, desperate to form the words his mind couldn't produce, couldn't conceal. "I..but I would never..you know I couldn't..not you..love please!" His eyes, the ones who had witnessed death and destruction, pain and mayhem, were pleading for absolution from a simple bruise. But, to them both, it was so much more.
Minerva stared back at him, and she could feel every ounce of pain and disbelief he fought. She wanted to take him in her arms and simply kiss away the pain, hold him until all was forgiven, but both knew it couldn't be. "You've changed Albus; oh why can't you see?" Her voice was soft but firm, a current of regret tinging the edges. "I have loved you for more years than I could begin to count, and you are right. You never could, but now you certainly can. You do not love me Albus; I'm not even sure anymore if you're capable of love. You're drawn to the memory of me, a woman who no longer exists. Bruises fade Albus, and apparently, so did you. You have done far worse than this to thousands of people, so why do you only weep for me. Save your tears for those who deserve them, like Molly or the hundreds who can no longer see them."
He stood there silently, his face red and blotchy, his entire body sagging under the invisible weight that now resided upon his shoulders. Her words echoed in his head, taunting him again and again. "Go to Hogwarts and see Poppy. You shouldn't leave those untreated." His tone belied the order in his words, and both heard the request. It was the first one he had made in five years. He turned around and shuffled his way toward the door, all semblance of pride missing from his defeated form.
Albus stopped before walking through the door, his hand still gripping the knob painfully. He never turned, but Minerva could hear him perfectly. "You are wrong about one thing Minerva. I fell in love all over again." The door closed behind him, and, despite the ache in her heart and tears threatening to fall, there was a gentle smile on her face. He wasn't dead after all.
In record time, Minerva had dressed and escaped her chambers before young Mr. Daniels had arrived, fleeing on her own through the empty streets. Two flooes and a carriage ride later, Minerva found herself once again standing outside of the Hospital Wing. Pushing open the door quietly, Minerva scanned the room for the nurse, and almost groaned when she was nowhere to be seen. She was about to leave when she heard soft voices coming from the office, and for the first time, noticed shadows dancing across the stone floors.
Minerva crept through the ward and eased up against the doorframe, straining to identify the sounds within. The voices were indistinct, but there were at least four of them, all highly agitated and one especially annoyed. She leaned in farther, hoping to catch a part of the conversation, trying to squash the guilt she felt for ease dropping. Before she knew what happened, she found herself on the pointy end of a wand and intense glare from two emerald eyes. "Well, didn't your mother ever tell you listening to conversations that were not your own was impolite? Perhaps you would care to join us?" Minerva began to back away, but the wand only raised higher. "Oh no, really, I insist.
