A/N Thanks again Maria for making the time to beta check this. I made a number of additions and changes after the fact so all the remaining errors are entirely my own doing.

While I originally intended to have this story continue until it matched up with the facts suggested in 'When Kneazles Attack', more recently I seriously considered ending the story with the first segment of this chapter and starting work on finishing something else. I eventually decided to continue on as originally planned, but some readers may prefer to stop reading here. There are only a few chapters left but a large part of what is remaining is fluff meant as a reward for the earlier angst filled chapters.

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Entering his office, Albus bypassed his desk with all its papers and immediately headed for the staircase to his private rooms. Taking his boots off in the sitting room, in stocking clad feet he quietly crept into the bedroom. He found Minerva, eyes closed, in the center of his bed with the baby asleep in her arms. Waldorf's head was nestled in the crook of her neck. In his slumber the baby gave a contented little sigh.

Albus lay down beside them. Brushing his lips against Minerva's ear, he whispered, "I told you I would miss you when you left."

Adjusting herself to be in his arms without bothering to open her eyes, Minerva retorted. "And I told you that you would manage to get over it soon enough."

Resting a hand on Waldorf's back to feel the gentle rise and fall of his breath, Albus couldn't hold back a smile. "And I suppose by now I should have learned that you are always right."

Placing the toy kneazle beside the baby, inadvertently, he brushed it against Minerva's arm. He chuckled watching her open one eye and groan at the sight of the kneazle's return.

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"Headmaster, you simply must take me to wherever it is that Minerva is hiding! It's been nearly a month now. Both Minerva and that baby need to be seen!"

"I assure you, Poppy, I have seen them – earlier today as a matter of fact – and both mother and child are doing fine."

"Is that your trained medical opinion, Headmaster?" Poppy's tone was becoming a bit presumptuous. "I insist that you take me to them now!"

Albus hadn't been expecting Poppy's visit to his office and as such had not thought to warn Minerva of it. But the door to Albus's bedroom was charmed to allow no sound to pass, so Albus had seen no reason to panic.

At least, not until Minerva opened the door and called down. "Albus, have you seen that bloody kneazle?"

Thinking quickly, Albus called back over the din of the baby's crying. "It's down here. Right where you left it when you portkeyed in just moments ago to see Poppy for your checkup."

"Portkeyed in?" Minerva stuck her head out the door. "Poppy? Poppy!"

Poppy gave him a rather cross look – no doubt she thought that he had been being deliberately difficult with her. Thankfully, Poppy turned her disapproval onto Minerva without seeming to find anything out of the ordinary. "Well it's about time you brought that baby back here for a check up!"

Sounding thoroughly scandalized, Poppy commented on Minerva's earlier question. "So the kneazle came too? When you said you wanted to be alone together, I didn't realize you meant with him."

"Not that kneazle." Minerva corrected her. "The one Filius gave the baby."

The baby cradled in Minerva's arms was still crying. Poppy wrinkled her nose in disgust. "He isn't colic, is he?"

"No." Minerva sighed. Accioing the toy kneazle and handing it to the baby, the cries immediately died out.

Watching the toy kneazle fly up the staircase, Poppy's eyes narrowed. "Mm hm. Now why exactly are you in Albus's private rooms?"

Albus grimaced. So much for Poppy not finding anything out of the ordinary.

Minerva was quick to try to minimize her earlier error. "Albus allowed me the use of his private sitting room to feed the baby … Armando's leering was making me feel uncomfortable."

Indignant, Armando defended his honor. "Leering?! Never in my life have I ever leered at a woman!"

The purported purpose of the portraits of the previous Headmasters and Headmistresses adorning the walls was to offer council and aid to the current Headmaster in times of need. Albus doubted Phineas's attempt to join the conversation had such altruistic leanings. "Oh, I saw him! He was! For shame, Armando! For shame!!"

The mood lightened considerably as that answer seemed to satisfy Poppy. "Please, you don't have to tell me. I knew Armando Dippet in life. The man was an absolute hound dog." Ignoring Armando's protests, Poppy continued. "I'll go get everything ready. Finish up and then bring that baby to my office straight away."

Listening to the sound of Poppy's footsteps receding, Albus warned. "That could have been bad."

"I don't leer." Armando repeated.

"Oh, but you do!" Phineas insisted.

If only to get away from those two, Albus indicated the door. "Shall we?"

Examining Waldorf, Poppy found only one cause for concern. "Is it just me or has that birthmark gotten larger?"

Minerva protested. "I don't think –"

Poppy dismissed her opinion. "Of course you wouldn't be able to see it. You are around it all the time. The change would have been too gradual for you to notice." Poppy turned to him. "What do you think, Albus?"

Having seen the baby nearly as often as Minerva, Albus was no help. "I couldn't really say. Maybe a little?"

Albus had never really thought much of the small spot on the baby's backside. "Is it something to be concerned about?"

"Probably not." Poppy pulled a camera out of thin air. "Still, just to be sure, I'll take a photograph to document it. Just to track the size, you understand."

Albus nixed the idea. The reward offered by The Daily Prophet was currently at 5,000 galleons. He was perhaps being a bit overly cautious – after all the picture would only be of the baby's backside. Unless the photograph showed a tail, he doubted even the Prophet would bother to run it. "Wouldn't measuring it be just as, if not more, accurate?"

Poppy didn't argue. Whether it was that he had thwarted her get rich quick scheme or that she realized that his objection had less to do with medical accuracy and more to do with what he believed of her integrity, her tone towards him changed. Sounding affronted, she unceremoniously thrust the baby into his arms. "Do make yourself useful, Headmaster."

Putting a partition around the bed, she had Minerva disrobe. The partition shielded Minerva from his view, but Poppy was still often visible at the end of the bed. It did nothing to muffle their voices.

Albus wasn't paying much attention to their exchange, but towards the end of the exam his ears pricked up.

"I wondered, Poppy, how long before I can resume certain activities?"

Poppy answered disinterestedly. "If the bleeding has tapered off you should be fine to do just about anything. If you feel like you are overexerting yourself or have any discomfort stop, but you should be fine to climb stairs, take the baby for walks, and so on."

Minerva hesitated. "I was wondering about a particular activity."

Poppy didn't look up as she kept writing in her chart. "Swimming should be fine."

"No, not that activity."

Poppy didn't seem to get what Minerva was asking. "What activity then?"

Minerva let her modest silence fill Poppy in on the answer.

At Poppy's horrified expression - the way her mouth repeatedly opened and closed without any sound coming out - Albus realized that she assumed Minerva meant with the kneazle.

Finally finding her voice, Poppy cautioned Minerva. "Not for a while. Not for a very, very long while."

Beginning to redress, Minerva attempted to change the topic. "Poppy, you'll have to send my invitation to the wedding through Albus."

Slightly recovered, Poppy waved a hand dismissively. "Oh, it doesn't look like it's going to happen. Alastor has cold feet."

"Oh Poppy!"

Albus shared Minerva's shock. "He called off the wedding?"

Poppy shook her head. "No, I did. His feet are cold." Seeing their confused expressions, Poppy added. "In bed."

Albus was truly flabbergasted. "You called off the wedding for that? What about a warming charm?"

Poppy shrugged. "Casting it every night for the rest of my life? Who wants to have to deal with that? Certainly not me."

Albus exchanged glances with Minerva, but neither said more.

On the way back to his rooms, Minerva questioned him. "Surely you didn't think Poppy would try to sell the photograph to the paper?"

"I don't know." Albus answered honestly. "The promise of money can make people do things you never would have expected of them. Greed changes people." Albus hesitated, but he wanted to brace Minerva for the blow that was surely to come. "We should be careful - even of our closest friends."

"One of the pitfalls, I suppose, of only allowing our friends near the baby - that it would have to be one of them to betray us." Minerva didn't say anything more, but he could tell by her silence that she was hurt by the very idea.

As they reached the gargoyles, she turned to him. "You know, you are lucky that I'm not as particular as Poppy."

At the question posed by his raised eyebrow, she explained. "Your nose is cold."

Albus had to restrain himself from reaching up to check. "Ah, but that is an improvement over yours, my dear. Yours is always wet."

As the rotating stairs carried them upwards, Minerva gave him a look best described as haughty. "Only in my animagus form – and it's supposed to be." She went on to point out another of the many flaws of his with which she put up. "Your beard is scratchy."

"And yours isn't?" Albus retorted.

Involuntarily, her hand flew up to her whiskerless chin. He lowered his gaze suggestively as she made to protest.

The scathing stare that met him when he again raised his eyes was one he often got when one of his jokes had failed to go over well.

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Albus hesitated. Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, he knocked on the door to Minerva's chambers. Classes were over for the day and while he had seen her at lunch, he was eager to find out how the remainder of the first day of classes had gone for her and Waldorf. Despite the offer of the elves, Minerva had insisted on keeping the baby with her throughout the day.

He knew they were in there, but no one came to open the door. Albus felt a stab of fear. Even here with all the protections that the castle afforded, he worried. Shaking off his fear, he tried to tell himself that it was likely that they were just resting after their long day.

After ensuring that there was no one else around to see him do it, he spoke the password. Entering, it immediately became clear why Minerva hadn't answered. Even with her animagus enhanced hearing, there was no way she would have heard his tapping over the tempest of the baby's squalls.

Picking the baby up from the cradle in the sitting room, Albus attempted to calm him. The baby wanted no part of it.

The baby's continued cries concerned Albus less than Minerva's absence.

Returning the still wailing infant to the cradle, Albus looked into the bedroom. "Minerva?"

"Minerva!" He found her on the bed sobbing into a pillow. Albus had worried that now that classes were resuming, all of Minerva's responsibilities – the baby, teaching, and the administrative tasks she needed to handle - might be too much for one person. He never imagined though that she wouldn't last even a day. "What's wrong? Why are you crying?"

"Because he won't stop crying."

Sitting beside her on the bed, stroking her hair, Albus asked. "Do you think something is wrong? Shall I get Poppy?"

Minerva shook her head. "He's crying because he has a horrible mother!"

"Minerva, you know that that isn't true. He's just a baby. How would he know that you are a horrible mother?"

While his words got Minerva to look up at him, by the look on her face it was clear that he had not expressed himself to the best of his ability. Trying again, Albus assured her. "You are a wonderful moth –"

"No! I'm not!" Minerva pulled something from under the pillow. It was the baby's toy kneazle.

Comprehension – at least partial comprehension – came quickly. "He's crying because he wants his kneazle? But why not give it to him?"

Minerva had more tears in her eyes. "Because I hate it."

Albus started to chuckle. "Minerva –"

"I hate it! Hate it! Hate it!"

Seeing how troubled she was by the toy, he stopped.

"All he ever does is stare at it. He doesn't take his bloody eyes off it."

Albus had noticed that habit of the baby's, but he hadn't found it nearly as worrisome as Minerva seemed to. Albus had to wonder if her hatred of the toy wasn't simply misplaced guilt at the deception she had perpetrated upon everyone in their lives. "But if it makes him happy, is it really so awful?"

At her stony silence, he added. "Didn't you have a favorite toy as a child? A lovey?"

With a displeased expression, she finally handed the toy over to him. Minerva followed after as Albus carried the toy into the other room. As soon as the baby caught sight of it his wails subsided to a hiccup.

"See what I mean?!" Minerva insisted.

Though he thought she was making much ado about nothing, Albus tried to seem sympathetic. "It's just a phase. He'll grow out of it, I'm sure. Soon enough, it will be the girls he is staring at."

"Hopefully not as obviously as Kettleburn. Do you know I caught him trying to look down my blouse – twice – while I was trying to feed the baby?"

That would explain why Albus had seen Kettleburn groping his way around the castle like a blind man earlier that afternoon.

Seeing how Minerva's day had gone hadn't been the only purpose of his visit. Being very deliberate to not use the words 'meeting' or 'important,' Albus informed her. "I need to go to the Ministry to see Mafalda. I fear I may not be back until after you are both asleep. I wanted to wish you both a good night in case."

Part of why he had stopped by – and the cause of his hesitation – was that he wasn't sure what the living arrangements were to be now, or what the situation was in general. When Minerva was staying in his rooms he had of course stayed in his rooms with her and the baby. To have done otherwise would have aroused suspicion. Now that Minerva and the baby were moving back into her rooms, he wasn't quite sure how things stood. While not discussing recent unhappy events had avoided an awkward and painful confrontation, it had left him a bit unsure of how exactly things stood. Minerva's question to Poppy at her examination had given him hope, but whether it was just that Minerva was waiting for clearance from Poppy, or that she had been too tired from her new responsibilities, nothing of the sort that would clarify to him the nature of their relationship going forward had happened between them since the baby's arrival. Simply put, he wasn't sure if he was expected to remain in his own rooms for the night or if he was welcome in Minerva's rooms.

Minerva looked at him a moment before turning away. Sensing his hesitation and thankfully a little clearer on the situation, Minerva deemed to enlighten him. Arranging a blanket over the now content baby, she chided him. "Do be careful not to wake the baby coming to bed this time."

Relieved to have at least that part straightened out, Albus smiled.

He really did have to be going, but …"Minerva, are you sure you are all right?"

Seeming much calmer, though still hardly pleased, Minerva waved him off. "As long as that bloody kneazle is around we haven't a care in the world."

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Entering Minerva's bedroom, Albus found Minerva rummaging in the closet. The baby was on the bed, dressed in his finery. Panicked at the thought that Minerva would even contemplate taking the baby out of the castle, and bracing for the inevitable argument as he tried to dissuade her, Albus tried to keep his tone light. "And what, little man, are you all dressed up for?"

As soon as she heard him, Minerva turned on him. "Albus, where is my camera? Do you realize we don't have a single picture of the baby?"

Relieved to have that for the explanation, Albus still hesitated. True they had no photographs of the baby, but at least on Albus's part that had been a deliberate decision. Not having any photographs helped to ensure that certain less than scrupulous people, such as his brother Aberforth, would be unable to take The Daily Prophet up on their offer. The bounty had recently been doubled again and now stood at a very tempting 10,000 galleons.

"I believe, my dear, that your camera was in the cottage."

"Oh." Minerva looked momentarily cross before moving on. "Well haven't you one? Do get it."

Albus thought of objecting, but he knew it wouldn't be right. They couldn't allow fear of what others might do with said photographs to keep them from documenting the various ages and stages of their son's life. Minerva would just have to be careful with what she did with them. It pained Albus to think it wasn't exactly as if he could go around displaying the photographs regardless.

Besides, chances were that someone selling photographs to the Daily Prophet – and Albus had no illusions that that wouldn't eventually happen - would simply take their own photographs.

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Minerva had left him a note the night before – requesting that he wake her before leaving in the morning - but Albus just couldn't bring himself to do it. Taking his seat at the High Table and unfolding the day's newspaper, Albus was relieved that he hadn't. He never wanted her to have to see what he was seeing. The entire front page of the Prophet taken up with the announcement:

FIRST PICTURES OF THE HALF-KNEAZLE BEAST INSIDE

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