D/C # 1 – Non Con, Mpreg. Angst and unhappiness abounds. not my characters that I'm abusing.

A/N # 1 - Thanks to Linze and Excessively Perky for ideas and suggestions.

Fawkes trilled for a bit, until his wizard was emotionally calmer. Dumbledore was so calm and emotionally drained, in fact, that Albus soon fell deeply asleep. It was only natural that he would dream of Severus and Minerva.

His itinerary for the day was quite full, meetings at the Ministry, a meeting with Severus and Minerva to discuss next year's course work, plus still more meetings! It was enough to make Albus want to tell the entire universe to bugger off!

His hiss of disapproval caught Severus' ear. The younger man hesitantly spoke, "Is there a problem, Head Master?"

Head Master! The boy constantly called him Head Master as though he had forgotten that Albus possessed a real name, and Albus' temper briefly flared.

"Albus. My name is Albus. For what is hopefully the last time, I will once more explain to you, that I will not answer to the term Head Master spoken by you in our private quarters, Severus! Why are you wasting your energy on projecting a Glamour here? You need to conserve your strength, Severus."

Severus murmured a soft agreement in response to Albus' curt tone, and he dropped the Glamour. His dark hair became heavily laced strands of gray and white, his healthy face grew peaked and gaunt, and his flat belly swelled noticeably. To Albus' revulsion which was directed inwards as it was his fault, he realized that his partner was trembling due to his sharp tone.

"Severus, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be short with you. You should had stayed in bed and rested," Albus stated. In a softer tone, he said, "You look exhausted. Go back to bed, Severus."

"I thought it might be… nice… to have breakfast together," Severus hesitantly admitted. "I didn't realize that you had a breakfast meeting at the Ministry."

"It came up at the last minute. I should have told you, but you were asleep when I finally got home last night. I'm truly sorry you went to such trouble, Severus. You had all my favorites, too," Albus replied.

Severus flashed a grimace that might have been a valiant attempt at a smile. "No matter, the sprog enjoyed it, and she demanded thirds of everything. Probably wouldn't have been enough for the three of us," he jested.

"Are you eating enough? You're looking rather thin." Albus attempted to sound concerned rather than reproving.

"Thin?" Snape voiced a soft, rusty laugh. "With this belly?"

The Slytherin patted his belly, and softly apologized to his daughter.

"Your face is quite thin. You need to see Poppy," Albus ordered. He didn't mean to command Severus, but really, sometimes Albus truly believed that if he didn't demand that Severus see Poppy, that his partner never would. It was for his own good, after all. "Perhaps, she can make a suggestion."

"I have an appointment on Friday. I spend enough time down there," Severus dryly stated. "Perhaps… we could do lunch today? I don't usually get you all to myself, and I want to finish the nursery before she arrives. I have several ideas and I desire your input."

"Lunch… I have a lunch meeting with the Wizarding Examinations Authority. They are intent on changing the OWLS for next year. I'm fine with anything you want to do in the nursery, just please, don't paint it in Slytherin and Gryffindor colors."

"Dinner?" Severus softly and hopefully questioned.

Albus hated to disappoint Severus but he already was booked for dinner.

"Dinner meeting with the Canadian delegation to the International Confederation of Wizards," Albus regretfully answered. "Lunch for them, dinner for me."

"After you return, perhaps, you'd care to join me… in my bed?"

That plaintive request stopped Albus cold. He put his hand on Severus' shoulder and was dismayed at how bony it felt beneath his hand.

"I told you that you didn't need to feel any obligation in that area to me," Albus reminded his partner. "I'm old; my fires don't burn as bright or as hot as they once did. You don't have to put out, Severus."

"I don't want to die…" was Severus' soft admission.

What? What brought this on? Severus assured him that on this last visit that Poppy had declared him healthy as a hippogriff. Albus had made an effort to be there during Severus' exams, but Severus was obviously uncomfortable with him there, and the damn blasted meetings had started to interfere with his best efforts. If he didn't know better, he'd swear that Severus deliberately scheduled his prenatal exams for Albus' busiest days. Friday was booked even fuller than today was!

"You're not going to die," sternly interrupted Albus. "I refuse to let you die."

"I don't want to die… with the feel of Goyle on my skin," whispered Severus. "Please… A-a-albus? Come to my bed tonight? I'll ensure you enjoy it."

"Severus, please… we've had this discussion before. I don't believe you're truly ready for it. We've tried it a few times, Severus, at your insistence, and I can taste your fright when I kiss you," softly protested Albus. "After the baby is born, Severus."

"If you'd only let me…" pleaded Severus.

Severus leaned close to him, and kissed Albus. His partner was shaking so hard that Albus was fearful that the boy would shatter in a thousand pieces. The tentative kiss was diffident and shy and Albus gently pushed him away.

"No," Albus stated. "You shouldn't be so concerned about my enjoyment."

"Just be patient with me," Severus begged. His dark eyes were staring into Albus' soul. "I just want to give you pleasure. You've been so good to me, bonding me, giving…"

"Enough, Severus. You're exhausted, Severus. Go back to bed, and don't worry about our meeting. I'll cancel it and reschedule it for another day."

Snape protested, and Albus overrode him, gently herding Snape towards his bedroom.

"Get some sleep, Severus. We'll talk tomorrow, I promise."

"You said that last week," was Severus' barely heard response. "And the week before."

Albus went to his meetings at the Ministry with a heavy heart, promising himself that tomorrow, he'd spend more time with Severus. During one of his interminable meetings, his mind began to wander and he found himself at Hogwarts as an invisible observer.

Severus nervously knocked on Minerva's door. She welcomed him warmly, and appeared surprised that he was there.

"I know the Head Master has canceled our meeting, but I had worked on my presentation. Can I run it by you? I desire it to be perfect when he reviews my suggestions." Severus asked sincerely.

Minerva, naturally agreed, and invited him into her quarters. The two of them discussed Severus' presentation in depth, and finally, Minerva nodded her head in approval.

"It's obvious that you've put a great deal of effort into this. Albus will approve of your hard work, and there are some very excellent suggestions."

Minerva's hearty approval put a slight blush on Severus' face.

"If anything happens to me, you'll present them? I want him to know that I took my role as Assistant Deputy Head Master seriously. I know that my position is just a way for him to put me on the payroll, but I've tried my best."

"Severus, there's a fey look in your eyes that I don't like," Minerva gently reprimanded him.

"I'm afraid, Min," Severus hesitantly admitted. "I'm frightened that I won't live to see the baby born, that I have only at most weeks to live… I'm deeply troubled because the last time I have been touched will have been by…them."

"Have you mentioned your fears to Albus?" Minerva questioned. Her green eyes narrowed as she looked at Severus.

"He assures me that I will live, because he won't let me die," the boy then barked a laugh. It was a horrible sound, and Minerva embraced him when Severus' laughter turned to uncontrollable weeping. "You know the Head Master commands,… and as a good boy,… I must immediately obey. Therefore my deep rooted fears over my imminent death are nothing of which to be concerned."

To Albus' surprise, Minerva kissed Severus on his lips. His partner eagerly kissed her back, and then Minerva pulled away.

"If we do this, Severus, we'll take it at your pace," she promised.

"Just be patient with me," Severus plaintively requested. "I need to touch you first… please. He doesn't understand… why I need to touch him…I can't have him touch me…not yet…"

"Yes, I understand," she assured him. "Take as much time as you need, and perhaps, you'll grant me the pleasure of touching you."

"Pleasure?" His retort was bitter. "This body?"

"Yes, pleasure. But, Severus, take off your Glamour. Both of them, the one you have just for the Head Master so he doesn't realize how you truly look, and the one you layer on top of it for the rest of us."

"You'll be… repulsed…" he whispered. Severus withdrew from Minerva, and she put her hand on his forearm.

"Severus, my breasts are no longer firm and perky. Sadly, they sag. My belly isn't as trim as it once was, and my legs… aren't as lean as they once were. My best years were long behind me before I took you as a lover, and you never said I was repulsive."

"You're beautiful, Min," Severus's voice was intense as he protested her casual dismissal of her physical charms.

"You know what I look like, and you're still interested. Why don't you trust me that I'll feel the same way?"

Having no answer to that, Severus took off his two Glamours. Minerva's sharp intake of breath matched Albus' own unease.

"Severus? You truly need to see Poppy," the witch softly stated.

"She knows, Min," the shattered wreck of a man known as Severus Snape assured her. "I don't have a great deal of time left… maybe two months? Hopefully long enough to have the baby. But the sprog, she's drained all my magical energy, and is now working on my physical reservoirs. Don't let him know, please."

"Albus needs to know…" Minerva protested.

"No, we need him strong so he can face the Dark Lord. He'll needlessly weaken himself more if he knows. There's nothing to be done anyway, it's gone too far for me to be saved. It's a decision I willingly made. I've done so much evil in my life; perhaps, giving my life for the sprog might help balance the scale. But we don't even have a name for her yet, he's never around long enough to discuss it! No doubt she'll be saddled with something Gryddindorish like Godafrid. I don't dare give her a name as he'll make that decision like everything else!"

Albus made his excuses, and attempted to leave the meeting. He was delayed, naturally, but in the back of his mind, he could feel the growing passion between the two of them, a gentle wave of desire, and then the intensity of Severus' la petite mort. His partner was presently contentedly drifting in languid pleasure, and Albus was delighted for him.

"You will tell Albus about what just happened between us?" Minerva softly questioned.

"He won't care," was Severus' quick reply. "He told me I could have my affairs. Matters not at all to him what I want, what I need."

"He does care," was her response. "But I'm so sorry, Severus, that I wasn't him. I know you desperately wanted your first time to be with him."

"Don't say that, I'm… thankful… it was you. I feel safe and protected when I'm with you, with him, I feel nothing but fear combined with that unholy desire for him. You warned me against him, I should have listened."

Albus was striding through the crowds of the Ministry, nearly running in his haste to leave. Damn it, naturally he couldn't Apparate out of the building thanks to the Anti-Apparation charms that had been added to the building since Voldemort's return. He needed to get back to Hogwarts, take Severus to Poppy and demand to know why both of them had kept Severus' condition secret from him.

Damn it, the boy had been deliberately scheduling his appointments for when he was busy!

The lovebirds had both gotten dressed, and they were enjoying a quiet dinner in Minerva's quarters by the time Albus managed to leave the Ministry. With a loud bang, he Apparated to Hogwarts.

Upon his arrival to Hogwarts, he was greeted by a rather peeved Fitch, a grinning Peeves, two dozen polka dotted speckled students and a rather irate Mrs. Norris who was not so happily sporting a skunk-like white stripe.

"I don't have time for this," he curtly snapped before anyone dared voice their side of the story. "Figure it out among yourselves."

Albus was heading towards Minerva's quarters at a fast clip when he felt a pain in his belly. He had to stop for a moment, hold the railing as the pain was a ripping, tearing agony.

"Severus, you seem pale, are you alright?" Minerva's voice was quietly concerned.

"Belly hurts," Severus admitted. "I think…."

"Severus! I'm taking you to Poppy, right now! No backtalk!"

"Min, it hurts. It really hurts, it feels like something is tearing…"

They were Flooing to the Infirmary, and Albus decided the hell with decorum, it was time for running. He barged into the Infirmary as Minerva was exiting the Floo with an ashen faced Severus. She was almost physically supporting him, as Severus was still tetchy when it came to magic being used on him.

"Head Master?" Severus' voice whispered. "Don't you have a meeting with the Guatemalans right now?"

"To hell with Guatemala," Albus growled. "Let's get you to a bed."

Poppy quickly arrived, took one look at the pasty white Severus who was being carefully lowered to a bed, and her face grew grim.

"It's happening, Poppy," Severus informed her of the obvious. "Get her out…You know what I want. Do it quickly… I want to see her. Don't sedate me; I won't wake to see her. I have to see her, Poppy."

"I know what your decisions are, Severus. Very well, I'll get my equipment. Minerva, Albus… you should wait outside, this won't be pretty."

"I'm staying," Minerva and Albus announced at the same time.

"Severus?" The mediwitch questioned.

"I don't want to be alone at the end," Severus admitted. His voice was strained, as though he was forcing himself to hide his terror. "I've been on my own for so long. I'm afraid, Min. Don't leave me."

"I'm here," the witch assured him. "So's Albus."

Severus smiled tightly and he bit his lip because of the pain. Minerva grabbed his hand and began squeezing it, and Albus grabbed a towel, dabbing at the boy's face. Snape was diaphoretic, and his color was poor.

"Severus, we need to talk," Albus soothingly said.

"I'm sorry I caused you to miss your meeting, Head Master," Severus blurted before his body twisted with pain.

"No, no, no…" Albus whispered. "We never discussed a name. What do you want to call her?"

"Don't you have it already decided upon?" Severus painfully gasped while his body was writhing in agony.

"No, I wanted to hear your ideas about names. You know her best after all, as you've been nurturing her so carefully these past eight months."

"I thought maybe… Ari…short for Arianna… for your sister," Severus timidly suggested.

"That's a wonderful name," Albus assured him. "What about her middle name?"

Bit by bit, Severus answered Albus' various questions, what to name the baby and what he wanted done in the nursery. Those questions answered, Albus began talking to him, apparently intent on having all the conversations they never had held over the years. Albus assuring him how brave he had been to turn spy on Voldemort, how proud he was of Severus, how he was a true role model to his students.

Minerva was tightly holding his hand, and Severus wondered…. Was this love? To not be alone when he died?

There was an indignant cry, and Poppy was soon positioning a wrapped, squiggly little life in his arms.

"I love you, Ari," Severus whispered, and then he breathed his last. His soul then departed from his body in accordance to his carefully designed plans.

When Severus next woke, he was reassured to find himself in Albus' quarters, inside the nursery. Snape had researched this carefully, but he had been worried that he had done something incorrectly, but no, he was now a ghost. Ari was awake, and she was making little contented noises as she was industriously attempting to put her foot in her mouth.

"Shhh, Ari, don't wake your father. He needs his sleep, as he's got meetings to attend, wars to plan and a school to lead. Don't put your foot in your mouth, Ari, you're to be a Potions Master like your Athair, not a contortionist. Don't you worry, love, your Athair will be here to keep an eye on you. Your father will neglect you… not intentionally, you know… but that's just the way he is. He does love you… but not as much as your Athair does. I'll be here forever, to keep an eye on you and your children; know this, as long as there is a Hogwarts, love, Athair will be here."

"I've got your bottle, Ari," Albus assured his daughter as he walked into the room. Candles burst into flame even as Albus Dumbledore dropped Ari's bottle when he saw who or what was standing near Ari's crib.

Unfortunately, since Severus wasn't able to do anything in the physical realm, before long a hungry Ari was screeching her war cry.

"Now, now, love, you take after your Auntie Minnie," Severus loving chastised her. "Your father needs to get you a new bottle."

"Severus?" Albus questioned. "You're a ghost?"

"I came back, Albus," Severus stated, a tad bit maliciously. "I know you're far too busy to love our daughter like she deserves, so I decided it was necessary for me to stay and haunt you. You don't treat our daughter well; in fact if you don't treat her better than you treated me, I'll make your life a living hell. Right now I'm rather displeased that you're such a cack handed klutz that you dropped her bottle! Can't you even be bothered to feed our daughter? Should I call for a House Elf?"

With Severus' condemnation ringing in his ears, Albus woke. He was disorientated at first, looking for Severus' ghost, until he saw Fawkes. The Phoenix gave him a loud, reassuring chirp, and the last of his nightmare disappeared into mist.

"Thank you, Fawkes," Albus whispered. The wizard put his hands to his temple and he sighed. The sigh expressed all his weariness and then some. The Phoenix voiced a soft chirp that while sympathetic still managed to convey his disapproval of recent events.

"Yes, I owe Minerva an apology," admitted Albus. "I should not have brought up our past. Severus trusts her, and she is willing to mediate…"

There was a snort of disbelief from the normally rather reserved Phoenix. Albus colored slightly, and conceded the point to Fawkes.

"Very well, Minerva is willing to firmly apply a beater's bat to my thick skull, repeated as necessary. I just don't know what to do, Fawkes. It is far too obvious that Voldemort has turned Severus in a Trojan Horse, Fawkes. It was entirely too easy to free Severus, and the child…" Albus sighed, and then he closed his eyes. "Merlin help me… I still don't believe that Severus truly wants the child. I fear that he's being compelled."

Brooding for far too long upon his dark thoughts combined with the deep fears that his nightmare had raised, the Head Master came to a decision.

"Fawkes, I'm off to apologize to Minerva," he stated seriously, then with a touch of wry amusement, he added, "If she decides to murder me, you are free from our bond, and you're not to attempt any reprisal out of a misguided sense of loyalty. I thank you for your many years of friendship. Fly free, Fawkes."

The Phoenix nuzzled his wizard for a moment, and then made a mocking trill.

"No, I know you won't blame Minerva if she decides to murder me. I deserve far more than the rough side of her tongue. Perhaps a peace offering might be appropriate? I remember that she liked roses. Perhaps pink to express my sincere thankfulness for her putting up with me all these years?"

Fawkes had his preference for colors, and pink was not one of them. He made no pretense at hiding his disgust at the thought of pink.

"No scarlet roses and certainly no gold roses," Albus gently chastised his familiar. "Perhaps peach?"

His familiar sighed his disgust at Albus' lack of fashion sense, and put his head under his wing, so not to answer.

"Peach it is, my friend," decided the Head Master. "Thank you for listening to me, Fawkes."

Minerva had taken a long walk around Hogwarts, attempting to settle herself. In due time, her troubled nerves were soothed, after plenty of long, deep breaths, combined with calming thoughts of strangling Albus with one of her Christmas scarves. After reliving numerous times that wonderful scenario in slow motion, and rewinding repeatedly in order to relish the exact moment when Albus realized that he was doomed, she had at last settled down enough to apologize to Horace.

He didn't appear to be in his quarters, so deliberately she made herself quite comfortable on his sofa and began to speak out loud.

"Horace, I'm sorry. I know that it wasn't your fault about what happened, and you need not run for your life. I swear on my wand that you're safe from my wrath."

Her sincere apology voiced, she gently stroked the sofa, and seductively whispered, "Horace, you make a better pillow than a sofa. You're rather lumpy as a sofa but rather cuddly as a body pillow."

The sofa uproariously laughed and then transformed into Horace. Thankfully, she was expecting the transformation to occur, so she managed to jump to a standing position before Horace fully converted back to his human form. Else she would have ended in Horace's lap and that would have lacked any sense of decorum.

"I'm sorry, Minerva. I really didn't expect Albus to be hiding in the Hall. My students really needed to speak to Severus as they were rather upset about his disappearance. Some do not have the best of home lives, after all, and many looked upon him as a surrogate father figure. How is he?"

The real concern in Horace's voice surprised her, and she rebuked herself. How often she had forgotten that beneath the loathsome Slug Club persona, he was a surprisingly decent chap? After all, anyone with potential could be a Sluggie, not just Slytherins and purebloods.

"He's shattered, Horace." It was the simple truth and yet not adequate at describing Severus' current status. Yes, shattered wasn't the right term, perhaps pulverized, milled, minced or even powdered were the better choices. The witch succeeded in hiding her smile when she thought how Severus would have easily been able to tell her the minute differences between pulverized, milled, minced and powdered. "It will take time for him to heal."

The Potions Master sadly nodded his head. "Severus did quite well today. Perhaps, Poppy will permit him to continue brewing with me? Nothing potentially toxic for either of them and I'll ensure proper ventilation. He can't stay in his sickroom forever, as he'll go astray in his head."

"Just don't take him on any more side trips without advising me, Horace. Else you will face the wrath of Minerva McGonagall, and you may not survive," she sternly warned him. "This time, you were lucky."

Horace Slughorn was a survivalist, and he knew full well how close he had come to earning the Eternal Wrath of Minerva McGonagall.

"I so swear," he quickly promised. "And, Minerva? Thank you for keeping a protective eye on Severus. Not many can stand eye to eye for long with Albus, and you're the only one here at Hogwarts."

She impulsively decided to hug and kiss him, which left a very flabbergasted Horace both blushing and sputtering. Having completely won their exchange, Minerva was in a very agreeable mood, even when she entered her quarters and saw that the damnable Albus was placing a vase full of peach blooms on her table.

"If I had known you already had several vases of red roses, I would have picked a different flower," he said by way of starting a conversation. "Would you prefer Orchids? Irises? Tulips? Daffodils? Thistles? I'll Transfigured them."

"They're lovely," Minerva assured him. "Leave them as is."

There was a protracted moment of silence between them, as they both reflected on their last conversation.

"I meant to be long gone by the time you returned. I misjudged when you'd be back," Albus softly stated. "I'm exceeding sorry, Minerva, for what I said. Please accept the flowers as a rather inadequate token of my sincerest and most heartfelt apology. I can offer no excuses for my loutish behavior, so I hope you will forgive me."

She stared at him for a bit, judging his earnestness, and then she nodded her head, accepting his apology.

"Sit," Minerva commanded. She sat down, and then arched her eyebrow in surprise when Albus didn't sit. Perhaps her conversation with Horace had inflated her self-esteem as she was slightly annoyed that Albus was still standing.

The Head Master then continued to speak. "You're utterly and completely correct, Minerva. Besides being a daft prat, I've been a right cack handed bastard with regards to Severus. Therefore, I'll leave him alone; I will swear it on my wand. Will you be my oath binder?"

He then handed his wand to her, and Minerva pushed it away.

"Don't be such a noble arse, you great big bloody fool," she roughly chastised him. "Sit, Albus. Sit! You still aren't feeling chipper, I can tell as I do know you. You really should cancel Charm classes tomorrow rather than teach Filius' class. In fact, you should let him teach his own class, as right now he'd run circles around you. You look like hell, you've expended a great deal of magical energy these last few days, and you're worried about Severus. Are you actually sleeping at all?"

The Head Master gracelessly collapsed into the couch next to her chair, and he sighed.

"I'm at a complete loss at what to do," Albus admitted. "I try to help, we argue and then he retreats into himself. If I don't do anything, leave him alone, give him time to heal… he'll believe that I'm rejecting him and the child. No matter how hard I try… I'll do the wrong thing. I just don't know the proper thing to do is. Minerva, what should I do?"

His concerned admission of less than complete infallibility surprised Minerva, but she chastised her less than charitable attitude.

Hadn't he had the same overreaction when she had been attacked? On that fateful night, Albus had intently searched for her when she had been late in reporting to the Order. Upon locating her, Dumbledore had swooped in like the proverbial Avenging Angel, his wand ablaze with power, the very air crackling from the sheer amount of magic he was casting. The mere sight of the enraged Albus had scared her tormenters into fleeing the scene.

Overwhelmed by her flashback, Minerva couldn't prevent herself from recalling how terrified she had been of Albus. There had been a fey look into his eyes, as though he was memorizing each of her attackers' face so he could hunt them down and kill them. Nay, not merely kill them, Albus was planning on retribution that involved complete and utter annihilation. His blue eyes had been burning with an unholy rage, a far cry from their usual amused twinkling when he had looked upon her.

She had been bloody, battered and bruised, and yet, still Minerva had crawled away from him… she needed to cover her nakedness, do anything but look into his burning eyes. Albus had followed her into an alley, and upon realizing that she was trapped, she had plaintively pleaded with him not to hurt her. The blaze in eyes had been quenched then, and he had looked away from her.

"Did they use magic on you, Minerva?" His voice was full of sadness.

At her weak affirmation, Albus had turned his back to her, and he had taken off his robe. At the time, she had been utterly terrified that Albus would decide to have his own fun, but instead he kept on his shirt and his trousers. Still not looking at her, he had held out his robe in one hand.

"This is handmade, not made by magic. Put it on, resize it to fit you. Then if you'll take my hand, I'll take you to get checked out by Poppy. You'll have to hold my hand, as I don't want you to Splinch yourself. You're in no condition to Apparate."

He hadn't left after he had turned her over to Poppy's tender mercies. No, Albus had sat with her through the exam, holding her hand while softly reassuring her. She couldn't remember a damn thing what he said to her… just that Albus had been there. He never asked for his robe back, and so she had kept it, wearing it to bed because she had felt safe, as though Albus was nearby, and ready to defend her. It was when the sleeves had begun to fray that she had decided to stop wearing the robe. It had become a crutch, helping her heal as far as she had, but her dependence on it was preventing her from healing completely. So, with careful neat stitches, Minerva had carefully repaired the sleeves, and then put it in her wardrobe. It was still there, but she never wore it.

On the bad nights, when her memories resurfaced, she would open her wardrobe, and gently stroke the robe in order to recenter her soul.

Now, deliberately, she put herself back into that particular mindset, uneasily dredging up how she felt right after her violation.

Minerva remembered all too well how an enraged Albus had reacted when he realized what she had endured, her intense fear to any physical contact combined with her overwhelming need to be reassured that she wasn't spiritually soiled. Then in the correct state of mind, the witch imagined that a group of faux Albuses had been her attackers and how would she react to the real Albus' constant presence, the gifts, his noble attempts at making everything better for her combined with the knowledge that she was enamored with him? The fact that Albus knew of her feelings must be added to the equation, and so Minerva mentally debated. What would prove dominant; her intense fear or her feelings for Albus? What would she do? How would she react?

Minerva ignored her instinctive reaction, and deeply pondered the thought. Severus prided himself on his logic, not silly sentiments.

But either way, her answer was the same. She'd push Albus as far away as she could because it had been his hands, his body, his face that had done this to her. He had turned an act of love into a brutal, violent mockery. And while she knew it was not Albus who had violated her, there was an overwhelming fear of Albus that she simply could not shake.

Someone touched her hands, and she flinched from the contact. It took a few minutes for Minerva's heart to stop racing and for her to regain her composure.

"Minerva? Where were you just now?" Dumbledore's voice was low and full of concern. "I kept calling your name, and you weren't listening. Why are you crying?"

"I was attempting to put myself into Severus' position. It brought back some unpleasant memories," she shakily admitted, as she wiped away her tears. "Backing off is the only thing to do right now, Albus. Give the boy a chance to reestablish his emotional equilibrium. From personal experience, I can assure you that Severus doesn't know right from left, up from down, and most importantly, he has no idea who he can trust."

"He trusts you," Albus reminded her.

"You trust me, don't you?" Minerva questioned.

"Yes!"

"Then back off. For all intents and purposes, you Imperio'd Severus into agreeing to be Bonded when he was exhausted from dealing with his… no… YOUR… no… OUR… Slytherins. When I confronted you about your rampaging Chinese Fireball in a Wand Shop tactics, you pouted and then stated the Bonding was canceled." Minerva's tone was tart as she expressed her disgust.

"I wouldn't say I was pouting, exactly," Albus retorted. "You were right, Minerva. The boy is terrified of me, how can I inflict on a Bonding on him?"

"Did you find anything else that might keep Severus alive?" Minerva questioned.

"No." That was admitted slowly.

"You need to listen to me, Albus, and take what I'm telling you to heart. You're pushing Severus into doing what you want. You haven't stopped long enough to ask him what he wants."

"He wants to run away to Spinner's End, Minerva," retorted Albus. "Didn't we both agree that his plan was perhaps a bit reckless?"

"Can you blame him? He lost his arm, Albus, and most importantly, Severus has lost his dignity and his self-respect. Trust me, when you're lying face down in the dirt while someone is ramming their wand into you, it mortally wounds your soul. He's trying to put himself back together, and he can't do anything without you sticking your crooked nose into it to force him to do it the way you want. The minute Poppy or I leave the boy, you're there. Why did Severus have to talk to our Slytherins?"

"It would mean more to them coming from him than from me," Albus easily answered. "That was a decision that he and Horace made together. They thought it best to handle the situation that way. I did not, as you so descriptively put it, put my crooked nose into it."

"Because of your well known anti-Slytherin bias," Minerva reminded him.

"Yes, because of my well known anti-Slytherin bias, and because of my all too dangerous liking for power. Minerva, I look at Severus, and I see how I can help him, I want to use my power to help him heal, and I accept the fact that I'll destroy him in the process. Therefore, I'm stepping back."

"Merlin's scrote! You're serious, aren't you?" Minerva nearly fell out of her chair in stunned disbelief.

"Yes," Albus softly agreed. "But I do so only because I know that you'll be there to help him."

"What brought this on? It wasn't just me shaking some sense into your hard head," Minerva tartly asked.

"I had a dream. Severus was bonded with me, and I… neglected… him. He wanted only a few moments of my time and I was always too busy. He craved physical affection with me; I kept pushing him away because he was too fragile. I ignored his request for me to be patient with him, to allow him to make the first moves with me, because… because I needed to prove to him, to prove to myself that I wasn't like the Albuses who had hurt him. By doing so, I proved that I was far worse than they were, because I promised him that I cared."

"There's more," Minerva decided.

"Yes," he admitted. "You two had an affair, because you let him handle that delicate situation the way he wanted. Severus later died from acute blood loss due to a torn placenta, after Poppy did an emergency delivery in the Infirmary. That's not all…" Albus confessed.

"That's not all? That's not a dream, that's a nightmare," Minerva exclaimed.

"Severus returned as a ghost because he wanted our daughter to know that she was loved. But I know that the real reason he refused to move on was to keep an eye on me and to ensure that I treated our daughter properly."

Severus put down his quill, and he decided that he'd read his last will and testament tomorrow. He had woken from a horrible dream in which he had died after giving birth, leaving him in a rather fey mood, and he hadn't been able to get back to sleep.

Death.

In particular, his death.

He had wanted to die, had debated the easiest and cleanest way of obtaining his objective, had decided upon his plans and then Severus had realized that there was no way he could commit suicide. While it would be far easier to land in the middle ring of the seventh circle of hell than to face a livid Albus Dumbledore on a daily basis, he knew that he couldn't kill the sprog.

But now, Albus had promised to Bond him.

"He's Bonding me," he quietly stated. "That means, my little sprog that you'll live. You'll have a family, a proper family, where you will know that you were wanted and loved by both your parents. I hope that I will live to see how happy you'll be."

He closed his eyes, and whispered, "I'm to be his Severus. He'll announce our Banns in the Daily Prophet before long, announcing his intention to the entire wizarding world. You'll be so glad to have him as your father, because he won't let anyone hurt you."

Severus harshly laughed, "I bet you that right now he's planning the Bonding Ceremony. He'll no doubt wear some horribly garish robe and I'll be embarrassed. Tomorrow, he'll visit us in order to tell me how outlandish our Bonding Ceremony will be. I'll pretend to be horrified, but I'll let him have his way, naturally. You know, Minerva and Poppy have both barred him from the Infirmary, but that won't stop him."

Those happy thoughts helped lull Severus to sleep and his last words were, "He'll barge in here, and nobody will dare to stop him, because he cares so much for us. It will be like we're… Potter…"