A/N Thanks Maria for all your hard work. Thanks also to Abigail for all your kind words and support.

Entering his office, Albus dropped his traveling cloak right where he took it off. That had to have been the least useful meeting he had had all week – and given the number of meetings that he had had to attend, that was saying a lot. As to why it had been scheduled for the middle of the night that was yet another mystery that no one at the Ministry seemed to have an answer for.

He rubbed his eyes as he approached his desk. How he wished that he wasn't returning to so much paperwork. He had been in his office since dinner trying to get through it all. Right now the only thing he wanted more than just to crawl into bed was to find a certain someone to crawl into bed with, but he doubted the Board of Governors would be understanding if he showed up tomorrow afternoon without a revised budget and at least some semblance of having read the individual governors' recommendations.

Like many wizarding children, as a child Albus had, on occasion, caused things to happen just by thinking them.

Upon reopening his eyes, he had to briefly wonder if in his exhaustion he might not have done something of the like again. Gone were the many untidy scrolls of parchment that had formerly littered his desk. He briefly entertained the thought that if that were the case, perhaps the best way to deal with Voldemort would be to simply put all his efforts into wishing him away.

Only one solitary and orderly stack of parchment remained to mar the beauty of the exposed wood. Seeing a familiar script written into the margins, he realized what – or rather - who had happened.

A copy of the school budget remained before him, but it was not his own. It seemed Minerva had been by while he was gone and switched his as yet unread copy with her own heavily notated version.

Getting through the original papers in even one night would have been a grand achievement, but a momentary look told him he could get through her condensed version in a mere fraction of the time. Indeed her notes on the Governors' recommendations were concise enough that were it not for certain comments of hers, he might have been tempted to just use them at the meeting. However, while Albus agreed with Minerva - Stansworthy did appear to have 'entirely too much time on his hands' and Figg was 'quite possibly a bigger blowhard than Stansworthy,' - he doubted either would find it very enlightening to be informed of it.

Minerva always seemed to know just what he needed and when. It was the reason he had oft been heard to refer to her as his 'right hand' - a bit too often the events of the past summer suggested. Given all the meetings and emergencies, he didn't know how he would have done it all without her.

He had been in his office all evening, save for this one meeting. It was such a short one, it seemed odd that they had managed to miss each other.

Unless of course it was deliberate.

Not at all liking that idea, Albus decided it time for a chat with the purloiner of his papers. When he finally found her, it did not escape his note that it was not in her private rooms or her private office, but rather in her very public Transfiguration classroom.

He didn't knock, but opening the door he made no effort to be quiet. For her to not even glance up from her papers, it was clear that she was ignoring him.

"You look tired." He observed.

Her quill still moving furiously, she still didn't bother to look up at him as she retorted. "And you look old."

"I am old."

"Well there you have it."

Their version of pleasantries having been exchanged, he inquired. "Are you avoiding me?"

Her tone was tart as she replied. "That would be rather difficult to do – what with our sitting next to each other at breakfast, lunch, and dinner."

"Are you avoiding being alone with me?

He could see the frustration as she half-dropped – half-threw her quill down on the desk and finally met his gaze. "It would seem the wise thing to do, would it not?"

"Yes," he agreed. "I suppose it would."

Minerva paused a few beats before pointing out, "Yet here you are."

The pause, he did realize, had been intended as an indication for him to leave.

Albus frowned, dismayed. "I don't care for this. I don't care for this at all. Is this the way it is going to be from now on?"

Leaning back in her chair, Minerva sighed. "Not forever, but…yes, for a time."

Albus realized he sounded like a pouting child, but there was nothing to be done about it. "How long of a time?"

"Albus, I don't know. A few weeks-"

"It's already been a few weeks!"

She was beginning to sound more vexed as the conversation continued. "Then a few more weeks! Or months or maybe even years! I don't know. How long do you suggest it should take to stop loving you?"

He didn't have an answer for that – just another question. "And what then?"

Albus realized that his earlier expectation – that their relationship would simply revert back to the way it had been before, minus the consummating - had been wholly unrealistic. There was no going back to the playful flirtation, and while they were often exchanging longing glances, the sweetness was gone to their bittersweetness.

She folded her arms, erecting one more barrier between them. "Then we are just left with the awkwardness. Until one of us decides that they have finally had enough of it and leaves – which, given the circumstances, would most likely be me."

Very much not liking that idea, Albus shook his head. "If one of us is to leave the school, by rights it should be me. You currently seem to be doing more of the Headmaster's duties than I."

"But just think of all the extra work I could be doing for the Order if I wasn't busy teaching classes all day – of course you would have to tell Alastor to stop withholding assignments from me. Was that your doing or did he come up with that idea all on his own?"

Knowing he was damned regardless, Albus for once chose the wise course and held his tongue.

Her tone was becoming much less harsh as her anger appeared to be dwindling. "Albus, you know you can never leave here. Without you, it wouldn't be Hogwarts."

"Ah, but what would it be without me? Am I the 'Hog' or the 'Warts' in Hogwarts?"

His attempt at using humor to diffuse the tension falling severely flat, Albus asked quite earnestly, "If you believe it's only going to end in your leaving Hogwarts anyway, why must we be apart and miserable? Why not marry me?"

The look he received in response…if it were anyone else looking at him that way, Albus would be reaching for his wand.

He suspected it was because he was still making no movement to leave that after a few moments of stony silence she changed the topic to one more difficult for him.

The conversational tone of her voice did not match at all well with the glare he was receiving. "I told Kettleburn that I didn't consider that Quidditch game to be a date. He very begrudgingly accepted it, but now he is insisting on counting that other night as a second date. He says he was there and it's not his fault that I wasn't."

Albus knew she was referring to the night a few weeks ago when he had come to her rooms.

"We've scheduled another date for tomorrow-" She corrected herself "-actually by now its probably tonight."

Albus wanted so badly to tell her that Kettleburn was not the right one for her – or from what he had heard in the Staffroom - anyone, but he held his tongue.

It was fairly obvious that she was trying to run him from the room by talking about Kettleburn, but he refused to go. It was one thing to have lost her company in the ways that he had, but he couldn't abide the thought of losing her companionship entirely. He would have to show her that there was no awkwardness on his part. He would simply have to get past his jealousy and the feelings he still harbored for her.

Trying to appear sociable, he inquired, "Where will you two be going?"

"Does it matter?" She cut him off curtly, but then answered anyway. "He wants to take me to see some film about a Roman emperor. Caligula, I believe it was. He's already seen it. He claims it's magnificent."

Albus had expected an answer of a stroll around the greenhouses or a picnic by the lake…or perhaps a harsh response from Minerva about not planning on leaving her rooms. Not wanting it to seem as if he were objecting to Kettleburn, Albus decided he would approach the other man directly about not taking Minerva off the castle grounds. "That should be nice. You do enjoy historical dramas."

"Mm…" Her next words were in that same conversational tone – as if they were sitting over tea discussing the latest edition of the Prophet. "Do you know what my biggest regret – for lack of a better word - is about our relationship ending?"

Not sure how to answer, Albus didn't. If Minerva was trying to keep him from feeling at ease, she was doing a spectacular job of it.

"There was something I always wanted to try with you that I was just never able to work up the courage to mention. Unfortunately, it's not the sort of thing that Kettleburn would be capable of doing."

While Albus could think of a plethora of things that Kettleburn wouldn't be capable of doing, he was intrigued by the idea that there was something that Minerva hadn't felt comfortable suggesting. After fifteen years together, he was hard pressed to think of anything that they hadn't tried at least once, if only to be able to say that they had tried it.

Knowing he should let it be, but unable to contain his curiosity, Albus prompted her. "Go on."

Still that glare, yet she beckoned him. "Come closer. And close the door."

He flicked his wand at the door as she leaned in to whisper in his ear. The smile brought to his lips by her breath tickling his earlobe died a swift, but cruel death as he took in her words. Before responding, Albus paused for a moment to think about what Minerva had just suggested. Really, was it any worse than the time he had asked her to wear his old Puddlemere United robes and paddle his backside with his beater's club? Thinking about it, he had to admit, it was.

Still, she hadn't balked at the idea when he had asked

It wasn't that he was deeply disturbed by the idea that that was Minerva's secret fantasy, and it wasn't that he was trying to get out of helping to fulfill said fantasy, however… "To be honest, I'm not entirely sure that that would work. I don't know that I can control that sort of…function while in my animagus form. Certainly, I've never tried before."

He caught a glimpse of a look of utter disappointment and defeat on her face before she began to wring her hands and turned away. "You're right. It was a mistake. I shouldn't have brought it up."

Taking her refusal to meet his gaze as embarrassment, Albus realized if anything was going to lead their relationship to a whole new level of awkwardness it would be leaving this…dream of hers spoken, but unrealized.

"Please just forget I said anything-"

Turning her to face him, he put his lips on hers to get her to stop talking. When he broke the kiss, she looked unsure, hesitant. He took another kiss for luck and another for courage before he transformed.

After he transformed, she still stood there, vacillating.

She stood there so long, he was about to transform back when she finally gave in to her want.