Albus wanted to let Minerva sleep, but he knew how important it was to keep her on the meticulous schedule of blood replenishing potions the healers at St. Mungo's had provided. In later years there would be many advances in the potency and efficiency of that particular line of potions, but currently it was a very slow and delicate process.

She was sleeping so soundly that she didn't even stir as he slipped out of the bed. Wanting to allow her a few more minutes, he quietly showered and dressed. When he finally could delay no longer, he woke her the same way he had put her to sleep the day before. In her slumber, her lips were slightly parted. He pressed a slow, tender kiss first to her mouth, followed by one to each of her eyelids. As her eyes began to flutter open, he added another kiss to her lips.

"Good morning, my dear."

Her eyes fluttered back to a closed position, but one of her hands found its way to the back of his neck to try to pull him down towards her.

Restraining himself to just a few relatively brief kisses, he picked up one of the vials. "May I offer you a delectable potion?"

"Mmmm...not so much." Still she reopened her eyes and allowed him to help her sit up. She made a face as she drank the potion; taste was another property of the potions that needed to be improved upon. Maybe when this whole business with Voldemort was over he could go back to his real passion-present company excluded; alchemy.

"Would you care for some breakfast? A little tea or oatmeal?"

He could tell she was making an effort to be, or at least seem, more coherent and less asleep. "No, but a warm bath might be nice. Care to join me?"

He kissed her brow because her lips were simply too inviting. "I had a shower while you were sleeping."

"Oh." Minerva failed in her attempt to hide her disappointment.

"But don't let that stop you."

"No, that's all right. I was just planning to lure you in there to seduce you."

Albus smiled. "I hardly think that you have the energy to stand right now, never mind…" He allowed the sentence to trail off demurely.

"You know, it's not as if I need to stand to seduce you. Besides, I thought you were willing to try anything once. Necrophilia not-"

Albus covered her mouth with his hand to silence her. "Please don't, Minerva. Don't even jest. When I thought…" It wasn't a desire to be demure that caused him to trail off this time.

Her playful mood dispelled, Minerva averted her eyes.

Trying to recover himself, Albus started again. "I have a few papers in my office that need going over. You should try to get some more rest."

She nodded.

"Call me, if you need anything." Tilting her chin up, he kissed her. The taste of those potions really did need to be improved upon. Still he kissed her all the more.

Laying her back down amongst the pillows, he pressed his lips to her forehead. "I'll wake you for lunch. Any special requests?"

Her suggestive raised eyebrow elicited an amused sigh from him. "I meant chicken broth, consommé, viscose, pudding…"

"Oh. No, not really."

With so many stops to glance back at her he might just as well have tried walking backwards, Albus departed the room. Reaching his desk, he shook his head at the thought; the woman barely had the energy to lift her head up, never mind stand, and all she could think about is –

Albus sighed at his own obtuseness. If she hadn't the strength to stand, how was it he expected her to manage a bath by herself. Much as he would like to believe it was simply that she found him utterly irresistible, it was also quite possibly a ploy to avoid admitting her own inability.

Albus headed back up his staircase. He had left her but a moment ago, but already she was asleep again. Pulling aside the blankets, he repeated his earlier technique of waking her.

When he stopped kissing her, she made a face. "More potions?" It was clear she had no concept of the amount of time lapsed. The alchemist in him knew it was the numerous potions making her somewhat less than entirely coherent, but it still troubled him.

"No more potions. I thought you might like to take a nice hot bath with me."

"Now why didn't I think of that?"

The return of her characteristic wit helped to assuage him. At least, he hoped it was an attempt at humor and not that she had genuinely forgotten.

Not trusting her to walk on her own, he carried her to his private bath. Inside, he tentatively set her down on her own feet. Once he ensured that she could stand on her own, or at least leaning against one of the sinks, he set about turning on all of her favorite taps.

After stripping off his own clothes and turning back around, he was surprised to see her standing there still fully dressed. "Do you need me to-"

"-No! I…I think I've changed my mind." The hand not helping to brace her was moving fretfully at the top button of her high necked hospital nightdress, but it was her eyes, darting back and forth between the mirror and him, that tipped him off. "I'm very tired. I'd like to lie down a little longer."

"Minerva…" The ever eloquent Albus Dumbledore was for once not sure what to say. "If you aren't ready, we don't have to."

"No, it's…" She stopped talking, but her fingers kept moving, this time unfastening the buttons. She gave a strangled gasp when the material gave way.

The healers hadn't been concerned with the finer details of appearance. The wounds were closed, but each had left a vicious mark. By far the largest was mid throat where the dagger had been sunk deeply into her flesh, but a less forceful, though longer mark was visible passing through the valley of her breasts. A number of smaller wounds accentuated the area of her chest.

"I know I should just be thankful to be alive, but…"

There was no denying that the scars were ghastly. As much as Albus had tried to mentally prepare himself for the worst, the reality exceeded any of his expectations. On seeing them, it had taken all of his self restraint to not outwardly react as well.

Still the words he said to her as he came up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders were true. "While I am sure that there exist some things I could possibly care even less about, I cannot at the moment think of one."

Staring at her reflection in the mirror, Minerva ran her fingers across the many small and few not so small lines. She was acquainting herself with the scars, but a certain part of Albus's anatomy merely registered that he was watching her touch herself.

When he cleared his throat in an effort to clear his mind, Minerva, hands still on her breasts, glanced back at him. Noticing his problem, she raised an eyebrow. "Really, Albus!" Still, he could tell she said it with some relief as his reaction answered for her an unspoken question.

Leading her to the bath, he helped her in.

In retrospect, it was a good thing that she hadn't tried the bath alone. Almost as soon as he finished sponging her back and allowed her to lean back against his chest, the evening off of her breath told him that she had fallen back to sleep. Escaping death at the hands of Voldemort only to drown in a bathtub would be the height of irony.

He sponged off her front and as far along her legs as he could reach. Her bath as complete as it was going to get with him pinned against the bath wall, he wrapped his arms around her tightly. "Oh, my Minerva!"

Burying his head in her still dry hair, he let out a few tears of relief. "I thought that I had lost you."