Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
Dawn crept ever so delicately across the wild Scottish lands. She tripped merrily through the dales and crests, embracing every nook with a warm energy. This energy stole mischievously up to the second story of the McGonagall Mansion, and peeked gleefully onto the marriage bed of Minerva McGonagall and Albus Dumbledore. The couple was much more entwined that morning than they had been since Minerva had left for the war. Albus had Minerva wrapped close to his chest, and Minerva, in turn, wrapped an arm around his possessive bicep. Her dark hair mingled freely with his auburn mane, mirroring the interplay of the night and sunrise outside the window. Slowly the raven tendrils retreated, just as the night surrendered the sky. Minerva sat up, gazing in adoration at the man whose hand she still held. His face seemed so untroubled in sleep. Slumber filtered him into an unadulterated version of the whimsical man that charmed her in school, and in their lighter moments. A fleeting wince passed over his features as he stirred. Desperate to ease his pain, Minerva quickly wiped the expression from his face with a soft, cream-colored hand across his cheek. Albus smiled, blue eyes peeping up at the woman who filled his dreams.
"Good morning, my darling," He mumbled, groggily. He turned to kiss the hand caressing his face. Sitting up, he let out a gasp of surprised pain.
"Albus!" Minerva wrapped around him, careful not to squeeze and potentially cause more pain. "What hurts?" She pulled back to study his creased brow.
"I think…" He sighed, tension slowly seeping out of his features. "It has passed. I'm sure it was just a bit of soreness from a still-healing wound. Nothing to worry about, Minerva."
She studied him warily, unconvinced.
"You're just trying to use this as excuse to postpone my turn to ask questions," He playfully accused, pushing her back against the pillows, and throwing a kiss between each word, "And that… will… not… be… allowed." Minerva's gales of laughter were cut off by a full-on assault by Albus' mouth. The assault grew into a full-on playful sortie of each other's bodies. It had been far too long since they enjoyed each other's physical presence. Poppy had even, to Minerva's vast chagrin, given the couple the go ahead to engage in sexual activity. They began their day by heartily enjoying her permission.
Deirdre, partly through her own worry, and partly spurred by Neptune's worry, ventured into Minerva's wing of the estate. She approached the master bedroom with a small amount of trepidation. Surely, if something was wrong, Albus would have summoned help… she reassured herself. She heard Minerva cry from behind the door, and leapt to the handle. However, it was immediately echoed by a cry from Albus. Deidre jumped from the handle as if it were white-hot. She speeded back to the dining hall in the middle of the house. Neptune cast a curious eye at her flustered return.
"Is everything all right? Is Minerva well?" Neptune stood, pulling out her seat next to his.
"Quite fine, dearest." Deirdre mumbled, "Nothing at all the matter."
"Then why are they not down to breakfast?" He pursued.
"They will be down in due time." Deirdre forcefully placated.
"Something must be wrong. I'm going to go see if she needs help." Neptune began to move toward the door.
"Darling," She caught his arm and pulled him down next to her, "I think this is something they can do on their own. Sit down." This was not a polite request, but an order that arrested his departure.
"But!" She gave him a raised eyebrow, and he realized, "Oh! Oh, goodness…They're…" He suddenly turned bright red with embarrassment. He took a deep swig of tea to hide his chagrin.
"I wonder if she's well enough to…"
"Deirdre!" Neptune spluttered, spraying milky tea across the ebony of the table.
"Neptune, are you quite all right?" Minerva asked, ironically. She was being gently set down from the strong arms of her husband. Both had a very fresh glow about their persons.
"Minerva! I'm fine! I was just coming to check on you, dear sister." He attempted to regain composure, dabbing tea from his chin.
"Ah, yes. I apologize for our tardiness. Minerva did not want to leave the bed this morning." There was an unsettling twinkle in his eye that made Neptune no more comfortable. Thankfully, the house elf arrived at that moment with the food, and everyone dove into their breakfast with unusual vigor.
After a brief rest, Albus and Minerva set out for the second day of discussions. Albus challenged Minerva to a brief hike out on the moor. He hoped to reach her favorite spot, the copse by the creek. They set out, and while Minerva was breathing a bit harder, she was able to keep pace with Albus fairly well. The color was gaining more ground in her complexion. The glow from that morning began to repair weeks of being shut into her room. The wind began to sing over the hills, and Minerva's formerly shuttered soul began to send the faintest echoes of the song back. Finally, Albus asked her a few things as they walked:
"Darling, what do you want to do now? You are the most gifted witch of the age, you have formidable skills in many disciplines. Do you want to continue as an Auror?" He was now catching up with her, so eager was her pace.
"I've been thinking about that quite a bit." She sighed, slackening her strides to catch her breath and walk at an even pace with him, "I've been thinking about Transfiguration. It always had a special place in my heart, and not just because you taught it, my love." She laughed at the sparkling grin on his face. "I want to pursue a Mastery in Transfiguration. But not right away. I want to spend time as an Auror first. I don't think I am completely ready for the cloistered life of academia. I need to expend some of my energy, explore some of the possibilities of practical work. I want to spend the rest of the summer with you, and then, if they will have me back, I will return to the Auror department for a few years."
Albus seemed satisfied with that answer, and moved on to the next, "I know this may seem like an odd question, but please give it consideration. I would like your sincere answer. Are you okay with having this child now? I had not honestly imagined us having children for quite a few more years. You are so young, and now we will be bound by a family to raise. Does this trouble you?"
"You know, Albus," She saw him wince and grab his left side. "Are you all right, darling?" He waved her away, pressing forward. "But when I was in the war, I considered never having children." She saw his expression fall, "It was nothing to do with you. I want to have children with you so badly. Nothing would make me happier than to fill the Mcgonagall and Dumbledore houses with a brood of red and raven haired children. But to see the pain in the world, so raw like that, I wonder about the sanity of bringing a child into this. Yet, now that I carry your child, I want nothing more than to have this baby in my arms. I can't stop thinking about what a wonderful father you will be, and how much I want to share this massive responsibility with you."
They had finally reached the copse. Just as they sat down on blanket Minerva conjured, Albus began to cough uncontrollably. He covered his mouth and felt something wet on his hand. Looking down, he saw there was blood flecking his fingers. Minerva read his face instantly, and snapped his wrist up. Turning his hand palm up, she gasped.
"No." She began to panic. "Albus, what's wrong with you?"
"My body aches." He groaned. Without further thought, Minerva pulled him up and aparated them both instantly to the manor doors. Bursting in, she began screaming orders. "Neptune, help me get Albus up to our bedroom! Deirdre, call Poppy!"
Twenty minutes later, Poppy's wand stopped moving. "Albus, Minerva, it appears Grindelwald had a spell that worked slowly, over time. It's gotten to the point where his body is falling apart from the inside. I'll take him to St. Mungo's but if we found out more about this spell, that would be our best shot…" Poppy barely even finished her thought, before Minerva whipped her travelling cloak onto her shoulders, and rushed out of the room. By the time they realized what was going on, Minerva McGonagall was far from the grounds of the estate.