83. Tears in Winter
Albus' office was empty when Minerva entered it. He was not the only one who wasn't present. There was no sign of Fawkes either. The phoenix's perch was completely deserted, no food, no water. With a deep sense of foreboding Minerva turned around and tried to figure out why the circular room felt so wrong today. And then she saw it. The new portrait on the wall. A portrait of Albus Dumbledore.
Minerva screamed and sat bolt upright in bed.
Her frantic heartbeat began to slow once the realisation that she had been dreaming caught up with her. Still, she scrambled out of bed, got dressed quickly and headed for the headmaster's office. At first glance it was as empty as it had been in her dream. But not quite. Fawkes sat on his perch, now fully grown again, and lazily opened one eye as if to ask what all the fuss was about this early on a Saturday morning. The most recent portrait on the wall was that of Armando Dippet. Minerva breathed a sigh of relief as she stared at it.
"Is something wrong, Minerva?" Dippet asked when he noticed her staring. "Would you like to talk about it?"
She gave a mirthless laugh in response. "I wouldn't even know where to begin," she muttered.
Term had started only two weeks ago and Minerva already felt as though she had aged a year. The first week had been fine. Potter had almost gone missing during the students' arrival, but Tonks had found him fairly quickly and so that wasn't even worth mentioning (not compared to the kind of trouble the boy usually got himself into). Horace had moved back into the castle and made himself right at home. As predicted, he had been happy to let Potter and Weasley join his NEWT class, even though they hadn't bought the necessary books and ingredients. More importantly, Albus' first lesson with Potter had also gone well. He hadn't talked about it much, but he had seemed quietly pleased afterwards.
And then he had told her that he had to leave for a couple of days, which had turned into the entire second week. He had warned her about these absences, but at the time Minerva hadn't known how hard they would be for her. She worried about Albus constantly, day and night, as evidenced by her dream. On top of that she had a school to run. She had never done that in a time of war. Not on her own.
Yesterday Eloise Midgeon's father had asked for a meeting, in which he had announced that he would take his daughter home with him. Once Minerva had recovered from her initial shock, she had tried to convince him that Hogwarts was a safe place (better protected than the Midgeon's house in any case). His concern for his daughter's safety was understandable, but sacrificing her education because of it was the wrong decision. In return Mr Midgeon had asked where Dumbledore was and how he was supposed to trust that Eloise was safe if the headmaster wasn't anywhere near the school. That had brought Minerva up short. Eloise Midgeon and her father had left Hogwarts an hour later.
Not long after, Minerva had to take Hannah Abbott out of Herbology to tell her that her mother had been killed. The girl was so distraught that Minerva had to cancel the rest of her classes and use that time to try to comfort her. In the end she had brought her to the hospital wing where Poppy had calmed her down with one of her potions and Pomona had eventually taken over caring for Miss Abbott.
And now that she had made it to the weekend and was terribly exhausted, Minerva still couldn't sleep because her dreams were too disturbing and scaring her half to death. Breakfast hadn't started yet, so she decided to take a walk instead. As she left the castle and made her way across the lawn, she noticed that Hagrid was up early as well. He was sitting on the front steps of his cabin. She had heard him even before she had spotted him because he did most things a little louder than other people and that included crying.
Minerva hesitated. It felt like she was drowning in tears lately. But even so, ignoring a friend was not in her nature.
Hagrid looked up as she approached him. "Oh, it's you. Mornin', Professor."
"Good morning, Hagrid. Are you...?" Minerva stopped herself from asking if he was all right because no one was bloody all right these days. "Is there anything I can do for you?"
"Nah, mightily kind o' yeh ter ask, but I 'spect there's nothin' anybody can do," Hagrid replied and then by way of an explanation he added, "It's Aragog. He's in a really bad way an' I think... I think he's dyin'."
Minerva needed a moment to remember that Aragog was the name of the Acromantula that lived in the forest and that Hagrid considered a friend. She sighed. Tears and death. Was that really all that was left in her world? "I'm sorry to hear that."
"I know yer not a fan, but yeh never got ter meet him in person," Hagrid said, sniffing and hiccoughing. "He's just always been misunderstood. He was never anythin' but kind ter me. There was a time when he was the only friend I had in me life. We've been together fer so long now... I don't know what ter do without him..."
Her heart clenched in her chest as Minerva listened to Hagrid's pain and felt it reverberate in her own soul. It seemed odd to draw a comparison between Albus and a giant spider, but what was important was the feeling of loss and Hagrid's loss was clearly very real. There was nothing Minerva could do about that, so she just sat with him on the steps to keep him company for a while.
"Would you like to tell me more about him?" she offered.
Hagrid looked sceptical at first, as though he suspected that she was only humouring him and maybe she was. She didn't have a burning desire to hear stories about Acromantulas. Her dreams were scary enough without memories of the time she and her brothers had almost died in the Forbidden Forest. But she didn't want Hagrid to be alone with his pain. She knew he was good friends with Potter, Weasley and Miss Granger, but Minerva hadn't seen them together yet since school had started. Perhaps that was why Hagrid agreed and began talking. Minerva listened in silence – grimacing at times (when Hagrid described how he had hidden baby Aragog in the castle) and smiling at others (when Hagrid recounted how he had tried to teach Aragog how to hunt and climb trees in the forest) – until eventually Hagrid's voice faltered.
"He's not gone yet, though, is he?" Minerva asked. "Then I think you should save your tears for later and spend as much time with him as you can." She shook her head about herself. Here she was giving excellent advice she herself needed more than anyone.
"Yeah, s'pose yer right." Hagrid rose to his feet and hesitated. "Never got the chance ter say how sorry I am 'bout what happened at the end o' last term."
"Not your fault, Hagrid," Minerva assured him. "Not even remotely. Now go enjoy your weekend."
He nodded with relief. "Thanks, yeh too, Professor. I'll tell Aragog yeh said hello."
"Um, thanks."
Hagrid waved and left in the direction of the forest.
By now breakfast had started and so Minerva returned to the castle. She wasn't particularly hungry, but with Albus gone the gaping hole at the staff table was already big enough.
She met Horace Slughorn in the Entrance Hall, also on his way to breakfast. He had never been one to miss a meal and that obviously hadn't changed. Minerva had been a little shocked to discover that he had gone completely bald since he had left Hogwarts and that his big, protruding belly had become even larger than she had remembered it.
"Ah, Minerva, up early today?" Horace greeted her jovially. "Before I forget to say it later, I've been meaning to offer you something." He pulled out a small vial and uncorked it.
The smell made her think of books by the fire, laughter in the rain and the soft touch of a phoenix feather. She couldn't help herself and leaned in closer.
"Smells good, doesn't it?" Horace's voice made her jump a little.
"What is it?" Minerva asked suspiciously.
"It's Amortentia."
"A love potion?"
"The most powerful love potion in existence, yes. I made some to show it to my students last week and now that I don't need it anymore, it's a shame to just let it go to waste. So I thought I'd offer it to some of my responsible female colleagues." Horace corked the vial and held it out to her.
Minerva's nostrils flared, but this time it wasn't because she was pleased. "Why are you only asking your female colleagues?"
Horace made a face. "A fair point. I should speak to Filius as well. I doubt Severus would be interested."
"Neither am I," Minerva added quickly and decisively.
"No? Don't need a little love in your life? Well, it's more of an infatuation, of course, but that can be powerful, too, and wonderfully uplifting in times like these. Allows the heart and soul to soar to new heights for a bit..." Horace rhapsodised.
"Perhaps, but I prefer the real thing, even if it keeps my feet planted firmly on the ground," Minerva clarified.
Instead of being offended that she had turned him down, Horace smiled broadly at her. "Good for you, Minerva. Good for you. Oh, and thank you for sending Potter my way. Best student I ever had. Except for Severus, maybe, but we don't have to tell him that, do we?" He winked at her and disappeared through the open doors into the Great Hall.
Minerva was surprised to hear that Potter was suddenly so good at the very subject he had almost failed several times before. Then again, everything about this conversation had been rather strange. It was sure to make Albus laugh, though, if she told him that Horace had offered her a love potion. She wondered what would have happened if she had actually slipped some into Albus' tea. Whether it would have made any difference whatsoever. He sometimes acted as though he had fallen into the fountain of Amortentia all on his own.
Smiling softly, Minerva followed Horace into the Great Hall. She couldn't wait for Albus to be back.
Only, he seemed to be gone more than he was home. He didn't always leave for days at a time. Sometimes he returned late on the same day, often after dinner so that no one really noticed. But Minerva noticed because then she got the chance to be with him for at least a couple of hours.
"I feel I must apologise to you," he said on one of those late nights. He wrapped his arms around her as they lay in bed, trying to go to sleep but too happy to hold each other. "It was never my intention that you should have to handle all this unpleasantness on your own."
Minerva assumed by unpleasantness he meant arguments with parents over their children's safety and telling students that something terrible had happened to their families at home. "Of all the things to apologise for, me having to do my job is not one of them," she told him, but her voice was gentle. She was too relieved to have him back to be truly upset.
"It's a little more than that," Albus insisted. "And I only said that you shouldn't have to handle it alone, not that you couldn't. Of course you can."
"I'm not sure the parents would agree with you," Minerva muttered.
"What do you mean?" Albus asked, squeezing her more tightly.
She shifted in his arms to look at him. "They don't trust me. Or at least they don't believe me when I tell them Hogwarts is safe. They want you to be here as proof, and I can't fault them for that because so do I."
Albus looked at her gravely. "I'm sorry," he said once again, "for casting such a large shadow. You didn't deserve to stay in it for all these years, especially since you're better than me in so many ways. They will understand that soon enough. Until then I wish I could be there for you the way you've always been there for me. But my options and, more problematically, my time is so limited that no matter what I choose to do, it increases the burden that will be placed on someone else."
Without knowing how, Minerva was convinced that the other person Albus was talking about, the one who would suffer more if Albus stopped leaving the school so he could be more present as headmaster, was Potter. "Then you have to keep doing what you're doing. And you should stop feeling bad about it. Or I will talk to Horace again," she decided. "He's been handing out love potions to cheer people up," she added to explain.
The expression on Albus' face was as bemused (and slightly amused) as she had imagined it. "Oh dear, did you take one?"
"Wouldn't you like to know," Minerva smiled and closed her eyes.
If there was one good thing about his current situation, it was the joy and relief Albus felt every time he laid eyes on Hogwarts. He had always loved the school, but now that his days were numbered and he had to spend far too many of them somewhere else, coming home was especially comforting. Even more so when he had failed to find new information that could help him locate another Horcrux.
But something felt off as he entered the castle tonight. Having lived within these walls for most of his life, Albus had developed a sixth sense for how his school and everyone in it was faring. Right now what he sensed was fear. More heightened than it had been since the beginning of the school year. He deliberated for a moment whether he should head to Minerva's office or his own. His first priority when he returned was always to see her. Luckily, his professional and personal interests aligned perfectly in that regard. Since Minerva knew he was coming back tonight, it seemed more likely that she was already waiting for him in the headmaster's office or residence.
Which was a pity because her office would have been closer. Albus climbed the stairs as fast as he could, but he was completely drained. The pain in his hand always got worse the longer he stayed on his feet. Thankfully, the spiral staircase behind the gargoyle carried him up the rest of the way without him having to move and then he had made it to his office.
His guess had been correct. Minerva was there, gazing out of the window, while the former headmasters and headmistresses in their frames talked to each other in quiet and grave but not urgent tones. Whatever had happened was no longer an emergency, but it wasn't good either. Nevertheless, Albus noticed that Minerva looked perfectly at home in the headmaster's office. As far as he was concerned, it was practically hers already, though he knew better than to say that to her.
Having heard him come in, Minerva turned around and walked over to him. She gave him a tight-lipped smile and a kiss to the cheek. "I'm glad you're back."
"Not nearly as much as I am," he replied, squeezing her hands. "Something happened while I was gone," he then got right to the point.
"Yes, but you look like you need to sit down and eat first." Minerva pulled out her wand and aimed it at the desk where a tray with leftovers from dinner appeared. The delicious smell of French onion soup made Albus' stomach growl in vehement agreement with Minerva's assessment of his current condition.
Albus ignored his hunger, even though it made him go weak at the knees. "I'm fine. Please tell me what happened."
"You're not fine. You look terrible," Minerva retorted, never one to mince words. "Have a seat and eat something."
But Albus could be just as insistent. "There'll be time for that later. Now what…?"
"Really, Albus, you can't go on like this," Minerva interrupted him. "You're clearly exhausted – and you know you'll need your strength to fight… that," she gestured at his blackened, cursed hand, her expression grim and unhappy. "The least you can do is to take care of yourself and have a bloody bite to eat!"
"Minerva, I'm dying one way or another. I hardly think it matters whether I get enough to eat in the meantime," Albus shut her down irritably.
She looked as though he had slapped her across the face. It made him want to slap himself – hard.
"I'm sorry," he whispered desperately. It was anger that made him talk like this. Anger at himself for having failed Hogwarts. And her. But he couldn't put that guilt on her on top of everything else. In an attempt to diffuse the tension, Albus sat down in his chair. "I eat, you talk?" he offered.
Minerva's face was set in harsh lines and her voice sounded oddly detached when she started explaining – after Albus had swallowed his first spoonful of soup. "Katie Bell was taken to St Mungo's today. She touched a cursed necklace that nearly killed her."
The soup was wonderfully warm and yet Albus felt himself go cold. "How is she doing?"
"Not well. I asked the healers to send hourly reports to the headmaster's office, so you'll be the first to know if that changes." Minerva paused, but not long enough for Albus to thank her. "Severus says Miss Bell was lucky. We found a tiny hole in her glove. That's the only part of her skin that actually touched the necklace. Any more than that and she would have been dead. Mercifully, Severus was able to stop the curse from spreading. He seems to be getting better at that." Minerva's eyes dropped to his burned fingers.
Albus couldn't have cared less about himself right now. "Then I must speak with Severus tomorrow and express my gratitude for his quick intervention." Quick when it came to saving Katie Bell at least. As for how this unfortunate incident had come to be in the first place… "I assume Severus inspected the necklace? Do we know why Miss Bell had it?"
"Apparently, she picked it up in the bathroom at the Three Broomsticks. From what her friend told me about Miss Bell's strange behaviour, she must have been put under the Imperius Curse and ordered to deliver the necklace to someone in the castle. She didn't reveal who the target was before she accidentally touched the necklace herself," Minerva continued to explain. "It seems Miss Bell was the innocent victim in an assassination attempt."
"An assassination attempt? That sounds a little extreme," Albus said, though she was perfectly right of course.
"I didn't say that it was a good one," Minerva replied. "She wouldn't have got past Filch and his Secrecy Sensor. But the fact remains that we have a would-be killer out there and their would-be murder victim in here and we don't know their identities or motives." When Albus didn't respond, Minerva's eyes narrowed. "Unless you do know."
Albus put another spoonful of soup in his mouth to buy himself some time to think and to decide how much to tell her. He expected Minerva to deal with these things when he wasn't there and it wasn't fair to leave her in the dark. But it was equally important to protect everyone involved and to minimise the risk of Voldemort finding out that Albus knew about his plans. Clearly, Albus needed to do a much better job so no more students would get hurt because of him. "I don't wish to sound arrogant, but since we're talking about being the victim of a murder plot, I doubt anyone will envy me for being the obvious target."
The look on Minerva's face told him that she had already figured as much. "Is that an educated guess or do you have actual evidence that this was about you?"
"I've heard rumours," Albus hedged.
"Rumours?" Minerva glared at him. "I heard some of those, too, though I suppose it's more of an allegation."
"You have a suspect?" Albus asked, raising both brows.
"I don't. Potter does. He, Weasley and Miss Granger came across Miss Bell when it happened. He believes that this was Draco Malfoy's doing."
Albus burned his tongue and throat when he swallowed the hot soup too quickly. "Did Harry say why he thinks that?"
"Other than the fact that he and Mr Malfoy have always hated each other?" Minerva shook her head doubtfully but continued, "Potter followed Malfoy to Borgin and Burkes this summer where Malfoy bought something that he did not want to take with him for fear of looking stupid and he wanted information on how to fix something else. In Potter's book that makes Malfoy a Death Eater who's up to something."
"Draco wanted to know how to fix something?" Albus repeated thoughtfully. "Interesting."
"But it wasn't the necklace and Malfoy wasn't in Hogsmeade this weekend because he was doing detention with me," Minerva argued. "The only thing we can prove he's guilty of is not doing his homework and generally not caring about his schoolwork anymore."
"I said it was interesting, not damning. You're right that this isn't proof of anything." It demonstrated, however, that Draco was being very crude and either lazy or desperate in his attempts to complete the task Voldemort had given him. Albus urgently had to speak to Severus. He had to find a way to persuade Draco to confide in him. It was unacceptable that they hadn't known about this plan in advance and that poor Katie had paid the price for their ignorance.
"Have you taken any steps beyond getting Miss Bell the necessary medical care?" Albus asked.
"The good news is our security measures would have worked. This didn't happen on school grounds. But we'll have to cancel Hogsmeade weekends. It was a nice thought to let the students have that little piece of normalcy. It simply isn't possible right now."
He nodded. "I agree."
"Assuming you were the target, the rest of the student body should be safe. Since you won't let anyone protect you, won't even accept a bowl of soup without argument, that's about all I can think of. Nothing else we can do. Finding the culprit is up to the Magical Law Enforcement Squad," Minerva concluded pointedly.
Albus did not like that idea, but he couldn't be seen interfering with an investigation. Another reason to talk to Severus, so they could figure out if Draco had put himself at risk of discovery. Not tonight, though. It was late and Albus hoped to patch things up with Minerva.
She was leaning against his desk with her arms folded. He reached for her hands and clasped them between his own. "I apologise for my crass remarks earlier. Handling my... situation is proving to be more difficult than I had anticipated. I know I'm doing the right thing in leaving the school, but it feels horribly wrong, especially when someone gets injured. I never meant for my words to hurt you."
Minerva's demeanour softened. "I know that, and I already told you that I don't need you to apologise. But don't you ever talk like that again. And don't you dare give up on yourself when you expect me not to give up either."
"Duly noted," Albus said and gently pulled Minerva towards him until she sat on his lap and he could hold her in his arms. Once he did, he realised how right she was to admonish him. Giving up on himself was one thing, but giving her up was still completely unfathomable.
"Can I ask how it's going?" Minerva didn't need to specify what 'it' was.
"Slowly," was Albus' vague reply.
"Well, I don't want you to worry about Hogwarts too much while you're out there. I don't want you to get distracted again. What happened this weekend would have happened whether you'd been here or not," Minerva said firmly.
Albus gave a low chuckle. He loved how Minerva could support him without question but still put him thoroughly in his place. Sometimes even in the same breath. "You're right. And you dealt with it admirably."
"I'll continue to do that. When you're here and when you're not here. We'll keep the students as safe as we possibly can. But I..." she hesitated and then admitted, "I feel selfish saying this after what just happened."
"I've never known you to be selfish, so even if whatever you wish to say should in fact be selfish, it is well deserved," Albus encouraged her to go on.
"At the end of this term I want us to go away together for Christmas. I love Hogwarts, but one or both of us have always been here for the Christmas holidays. I was happy to stay all these years, but since this is… the last time…" She faltered for a moment, then lifted her chin in determination. "I know what you're doing is important and the holidays would give you a lot of room to keep doing it. I shouldn't ask you to stop, but I have to. Just this once. Consider it a lifetime worth of birthday and Christmas presents you never had to give me…"
He lifted a finger and pressed it to her lips before she could continue. "Yes," he said simply. Minerva rarely asked him for anything and gave him so much in return. Granting her this wish that he wanted as much as she did was an easy decision. The truth of the matter was: it really was now or never.
And he would do anything to make the now better for her.
Minerva woke, heart racing, skin cold and damp, her eyes trying to find something to hold on to in the dark, unfamiliar room. A warm, comforting hand came to rest on her shoulder.
Albus. The relief was intense and immediate.
Followed by embarrassment. Albus hadn't noticed her bad dreams before because he was gone too often and slept too little. As Minerva turned to look at him now, she could see on his face that this time he had witnessed her waking up in pain and fear.
"Would you like to talk about it?" he offered gently.
Her answer was quick. "No."
"It might help," he argued.
"It won't. I've had these for weeks. It's fine. I'm getting used to them," Minerva lied.
Albus looked sad and surprised to hear her admit that. "Why didn't you tell me?"
She gave a shrug. "It felt silly to complain about occasionally having a nightmare while you're actually living one."
"The only thing that's silly is to think there's anything you can't talk to me about," Albus replied, brows drawn. "Especially if talking about those dreams could help to make them go away."
"I don't want them to go away."
"Okay, now that might be a little silly – or at least confusing."
"If the dreams are gone, it probably means that they're no longer necessary because they've already come true," Minerva explained quietly.
As he understood that his death must be a prominent part of her bad dreams and that he couldn't change that, Albus sighed. "What do you do then after you've had one?"
"Usually, I get up, but then, usually you're not there," Minerva replied. She was still tired and they had nowhere else to be. Instead of getting up, she sank back down into the pillows and snuggled up to Albus. She wrapped herself around him until she could forget where she ended and he began.
He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and whispered, "If this truly is living a nightmare, then I can't even begin to imagine what a good dream would look like."
Minerva was still a little too shaken to respond, but she knew what he meant.
She had asked for them to be alone during the Christmas holidays and Albus had kept his promise. He had even cursed Dawlish to stop him from following him when they had wisely decided to Disapparate separately. Since then they hadn't met another soul. They were surrounded by nothing but trees and snow and trees buried in the snow. If Minerva strained her ears, she could hear the sounds of birds and other animals foraging for food in the nearby woods. But there were no human voices, not even footsteps in the snow except for their own, and no Patronuses or urgent messages insisting that they needed to come back. They were staying in a small but comfortable cabin and they had it all to themselves. It was a little piece of heaven in the middle of nowhere.
So far they had done nothing but take long walks, sit by the fireplace to warm up again, read and then talk about books for hours or in fact not talk and simply enjoy each other's company in silence. All things they could have done at home, but here they didn't have to worry about being seen or being interrupted. Here it was like time had stopped. Minerva was incredibly glad that she had made Albus come, although she was a little sad to miss Christmas dinner at Hogwarts for the second year in a row. Or so she had thought.
On Christmas Day she went for a walk on her own because Albus had feigned exhaustion, but he had insisted that she should go and stretch her legs without him. When Minerva returned, she understood what had really been going on. The cabin was suddenly decked with Christmas decorations and the table was bursting with enough food for a small army. Minerva immediately smelled all of her Christmas favourites.
"Where did all of this come from?" she asked, having stopped by the door in surprise. "You did not do that all by yourself!"
"I should have toned it down a little if I wanted to claim the credit, huh?" Albus chuckled. "I must confess that I abused my privileges as headmaster just this once."
"You asked the house-elves to do this."
"Yes, but I'm giving Dobby a Christmas bonus and the others, well, I haven't figured out yet how to thank them without insulting them, but I'll think of something."
Minerva looked at him as he stood in the middle of this private feast with cheerful twinkly lights behind him and a familiar natural twinkle in his eyes. He was in a good mood – he had even put on festive robes – but he was also serious about thanking the house-elves for their work. Despite everything that was going on, despite the pain he was trying to hide, he still wouldn't forget to care about them and everyone else back in Hogwarts.
It hit her out of nowhere. Her eyes were suddenly brimming with tears.
"Is this not what you wanted?" Albus asked somewhat surprised.
"It's exactly what I wanted," Minerva assured him and after drawing a shaky breath, she added, "And it's exactly what I can never have again."
The joy in Albus' eyes was extinguished as abruptly as a fire doused with cold water. He wanted to go to her, but Minerva held up a hand.
"No, just stay put! I'm sorry I said that. I'm not ruining this for us." She struggled to hold back the tears and push them somewhere deep down to where the part of her lived that wanted to scream and wail every time she looked at Albus.
"How long do you expect me to stand here while you're crying over there?" he asked after a painful pause.
"I'm not crying," Minerva replied stubbornly, her eyes burning in protest. "I'm… bloody hell! Why did you make me love you so much?"
Albus watched her struggles for barely another heartbeat before he ignored her request to stay away. He crossed the room and enveloped her in his arms. "Believe me, I have asked myself that question many times and when I couldn't find an easy answer, I decided to just be grateful for it instead." His hands ran soothingly up and down her back. "Alternatively, I could try to be more of a git if that would help you to love me less."
He drew back a little in concern when Minerva began to shake, but it was only because she had started laughing. The way only Albus could make her laugh, the way he had always made her laugh from the very beginning. There was no changing that. There was no going back. Only forward. With both eyes open. And preferably dry.
Minerva squared her shoulders. "There's nothing you can do to help me right now," she said, her gaze going from him to the table. "But that Christmas pudding might."
A cautious smile returned to Albus' face and he pulled out a chair for her. "I should have known the pudding would do the trick. It's always been the pudding with you."
"What do you mean?" Minerva asked, eyeing said pudding. She was sorely tempted to start with that rather than to eat some of the more nourishing food choices first. Her soul seemed to think that pudding was nourishment enough.
"The first time I had to convince you that spending Christmas away from home wouldn't be so bad, you made me swear there'd be pudding," Albus reminded her as he sat down as well.
Minerva racked her brain to find that memory. It had been her very first Christmas at Hogwarts and she had been embarrassingly upset about some meaningless breakup. Despite her teenage moodiness Albus had been wonderfully patient, caring and kind. As always. "Between you and the pudding, that was a good Christmas, yes. It was the first time we played chess, too."
"The first time you beat me at chess, you mean," Albus corrected her.
She shot him a grin. "That goes without saying."
"Oh, does it? I guess we'll have to see about that after dinner."
And so after they had finished eating and were completely stuffed, they moved to the more comfortable set of armchairs by the fire and began to play chess well into the night.
"Did I ever tell you how I learned to play chess?" Albus suddenly asked.
Minerva, who had been about to contemplate her next move, looked up from the board. "No, I don't think you have," she realised with mild surprise. "I always figured you taught yourself and honed your skills by reading a couple of books about it."
Albus cocked his head. "I can't tell if that means that you think very highly of my autodidactic tendencies or if you just think I'm too bookish for my own good."
"A little bit of both?" Minerva suggested.
"Fair enough," Albus laughed. "But no. It was in my third year at Hogwarts when I got detention…"
"Hold on," Minerva interrupted him with a bemused smile. "What did you get detention for? Being too good in class?"
"In a way, yes," Albus nodded unabashedly, "or rather for believing that I was too good to learn at the pace of my classmates. My punishment was to spend every night of that week playing chess with my teacher."
Minerva snorted. "Figures. Even when you get detention like a normal student, it's not actually a normal detention."
"For me it was worse. My teacher was an excellent chess player. I had never played before and had no idea what I was doing. So he drove the point home by beating me over and over again. It was a very humbling experience."
Fascinated by this part of Albus' childhood she had never heard before, Minerva leaned forward in her chair. "Let me guess. That's when you started studying the game of chess until you finally beat your teacher?"
"No, I never won a single game," Albus admitted.
"Really?"
"Really." Albus sighed a little too dramatically. "Every time you beat me several times in a row, you remind me a little of him."
"Well, if you told me this little story so I would take pity on you, you need to think again," Minerva said as she made her next move.
"Actually, I just told you this to distract you from seeing my chance to checkmate you," Albus replied as he did exactly that.
Minerva stared at the chessboard and then glanced up at Albus. "You sneaky, little bastard."
"That doesn't seem like a very Christmasy thing to say," he chided her with a guffaw.
"Neither is cheating," Minerva countered.
"Is it really cheating if you're the one who got so easily distracted?"
"Because you offered up a piece of yourself. Of course that's more important to me than this game of chess!"
Albus smiled at her. "Then perhaps we've both won."
Minerva crossed her arms and tried to scowl at him, but she was actually laughing inside. She saw something white in the corner of her eye. It was snowing heavily again and the previously dark window was now almost completely covered. "Then let's stop playing for tonight and go outside."
"Now?" Albus asked, lifting a brow in doubt.
"Are you tired?" It was late, but not late enough for Albus to go to bed. Not usually anyway. His hand could be bothering him, though.
In response he got up and reached for their cloaks. He helped Minerva into hers like the perfect gentleman he could be when it suited him. Which, to be fair, was most of the time, but especially when he wanted her to forget that he had just tricked her a little. They had to melt some of the snow with their wands to be able to leave the cabin and then Minerva chose a path they hadn't taken yet.
Albus took her gloved hand in his and let her lead. "Where are we going then?"
"I have no idea." There wasn't really a path anymore. They were ploughing through a deep field of snow.
"A Christmas adventure. How exciting." He gave her a boyish smile that was in stark contrast to his extremely white hair and beard.
It really did make Minerva feel a little adventurous. Or maybe reckless was the right word. As a Gryffindor she didn't particularly care about the difference at the moment. The night was pitch-black, but the snow was so bright that they didn't need their wands to see and could keep using them whenever the snow got too thick. Once they entered the woods, the going got a little easier because the canopy provided them with some cover. There also was an almost magical tranquillity here amidst the trees, a stillness that wasn't ominous but peaceful.
"A Knut for your thoughts?" Minerva whispered into the quiet. They didn't need to talk to feel connected, but she found that she wanted to.
Apparently, so did Albus. "I was just thinking that I would love for you to tell me something I don't know about you."
"Quid pro quo?"
"If you want to call it that."
Minerva frowned. "You've known me for most of my life. There's nothing you don't know about me."
"I've had the privilege of loving you for many years, but that doesn't mean I know all of you," Albus contradicted her softly. "You're too complex for that by far."
"Complex or complicated?" Before he could respond, Minerva continued, "I've been thinking a lot about my father lately. He always knew what he believed in and he never wavered. Not even when Junior died. He told me that God didn't want young men to die but that he wanted all men to have the right to make their own choices and so tragically some of them would choose wrong and hurt others. He also believed that death wasn't goodbye forever and that made it easier for him. He never pressured me to believe as he did, but I've begun to wonder if I'm ready to. I think I want to be." Perhaps it was the magnificent night sky above their heads that made her confess that.
Having listened intently, Albus said, "There's a lot of power in knowing what to believe in. Especially since you're the only one who has power over your own beliefs."
"Except, different parts of me seem to have very different opinions on the matter," Minerva admitted and then looked searchingly at Albus. "I know you're not afraid of it one way or another, but do you think there's more to come… after death?"
He remained silent for a moment, but Minerva suspected that he was considering her feelings more than he was contemplating his answer. "Personally, I like the idea that we simply get to rest at some point, but mostly I like that I have absolutely no way of knowing for sure."
"That's exactly what I hate about it," Minerva said, baffled.
"Because you're a woman of strong convictions." Albus' eyes were bright and proud behind his half-moon spectacles. "And I think deep down you already know what feels right to you."
She had been quiet to process this and that's why she heard the rustling in the undergrowth. At first Minerva didn't pay too much attention to it, but then she noticed that it seemed to get closer, only to stop for a while and then pick up again. As though someone was following them in a stop-and-go motion.
"Do you hear that?" Minerva asked Albus under her breath.
He was smart enough not to ask what but to keep his mouth shut and listen. The snow swallowed up most sounds, but someone or something was definitely moving behind them. They exchanged a quick look. It seemed impossible that someone from the Ministry or worse someone spying for You-Know-Who had found them out here, but this year had completely redefined Minerva's understanding of the impossible.
Erring on the side of caution, they kept walking and chose a small, overgrown path. As soon as the opportunity presented itself, they ducked behind a tree in the hope that their pursuer had lost sight of them and would pass them.
Minerva tightened her hold on both Albus' hand and her wand and she could feel him do the same. Her muscles tensed as the rustling became louder, but her breathing stayed even and steady. She had her wand and she had Albus. She had everything she needed and she was not afraid. Whoever thought that they could ruin her last Christmas with Albus had thought wrong and Minerva would make them see the error of their ways. If she got the chance. Albus' clear blue eyes glowed almost as much as his white hair and beard. He didn't look sick or weak at all. He looked like an ethereal being whose power was not from this world and definitely not wise to cross.
The bushes parted and a fox appeared, its red fur a bright spot of colour in the snow. It sniffed the air and then looked right at them.
"Oh," Albus chuckled, "it's you."
"Do you know each other?" Minerva asked, glancing back and forth between Albus and the fox, searching for the markings of an Animagus.
"We met earlier when he – or she, I suppose – came to the cabin as I was setting up our dinner. He was looking for food and we had more than enough, so I gave him some. I guess he remembered me."
"So you're saying this is an actual fox?" Minerva took in Albus' relaxed posture and lowered her wand as well. "I don't know if I should be relieved or embarrassed that we were hiding from an animal that took a liking to you rather than from someone intent on killing us."
"Technically, we were springing a trap," Albus corrected her, eyeing the fox with amusement. "And they can be very clever when they're hungry. He clearly thought we'd be leading him to more food."
"I'm pretty sure that's why you're not supposed to feed them," Minerva pointed out. "If he breaks into our cabin tonight and trashes our kitchen, I'm not cleaning that up and neither are the house-elves."
Albus shrugged his shoulders. "Sorry, my friend. Bad luck," he said to the fox.
Minerva laughed and tugged at Albus' hand to keep walking. She could hear the fox following them for a while longer, but at some point she stopped paying attention to it. They were pretty deep in the forest now and she couldn't even say how much distance they had covered.
"If I were here with anyone but you, I would start to worry about finding our way back," she admitted.
"That's funny. I was just about to say the same thing," Albus replied.
They stood in a little clearing with lots of choices in which direction to go next. They could simply Apparate back to the cabin, but Minerva didn't want to do that.
She shook her head. "You shouldn't trust me to get us back."
"Why not?" Albus asked softly. "Trusting you has never steered me wrong."
"I might not actually want to go home," Minerva breathed. Home to the cabin. Home to Hogwarts. Home to a future that didn't actually have a home for her.
"Then let's stay here for a while." Albus' lips were as cold as her own, but his kiss was warmer than ever. It spread through her veins as though she needed his love more than she needed oxygen. They could have turned to ice out here and she wouldn't have cared as long as that meant that she could keep holding on to him.
Eventually they had to return to the cabin, though, and they were both exhausted enough to go straight to bed. Minerva pressed her cold feet and hands against Albus, who was still as warm-blooded as a phoenix. Except for a slight wince at her initial cold touch, he didn't protest and his embrace warmed her to her very core in no time. Soon enough they were both comfortable and asleep.
Until a peculiar sound woke them up again. They had cracked open a window for some fresh air and someone seemed to be scratching the pane as they shovelled away the snow that prevented them from either looking or getting inside.
"That's your mess," Minerva muttered into the pillow, thinking of that nosy, hungry fox from earlier.
Albus grumbled something intelligible and got up. Minerva closed her eyes to drift off to sleep again, but then she heard voices. She had witnessed Albus talking to the fox before, but this time someone was answering.
Blindly, Minerva grabbed her glasses and her wand and rushed out of bed. She came to a breathless stop just as Albus turned on the lights and she could identify the person standing on the porch.
"Aberforth? What are you doing here? And in the middle of the night?" Minerva demanded more than a little annoyed. She wrapped her dressing gown more tightly around herself.
"It's more like very early in the morning, actually." Completely unapologetic Albus' brother stepped into the cabin and closed the door against the cold. "I came to ask what the meaning of this is supposed to be?" He held a half-opened Christmas present in his hand. From her point of view Minerva couldn't see what was in the package, but Albus seemed to know because he didn't even bother to look. "This was the only thing of hers that you kept," Aberforth went on, glaring at his brother. "Why would you give it to me?"
Even without knowing what the present was, Minerva now knew that it had once belonged to Ariana. She was beginning to understand what was going on and her eyes widened.
"I gave it to you because I won't be needing it much longer and it should be kept by someone who loved her," Albus said slowly. "I thought it would be nicer if you got it as a Christmas present rather than after I'm gone. I didn't consider that it would lead to us having this unpleasant conversation on Christmas."
There was a pause. Then Aberforth burst out, "What the devil are you talking about?"
Minerva had been too focused on her own pain to wonder if Albus had told anyone else about the curse. Clearly, the answer was no. Until now. She wasn't at all sure if she could go through this again, even as a bystander, but just like the first time she didn't have a choice.
"As it turns out, the little accident I had this summer was not so little after all." Albus held up his dead hand that Aberforth must have seen before, but he now stared at it differently.
The pause that followed now was even longer. Eventually Aberforth looked to Minerva. "Is this a joke?"
She couldn't find the words to respond because she didn't know what to say. But her face must have done the talking for her. It was enough for Aberforth to get his answer.
He sank onto the nearest chair and after the longest time he looked up and said, "You can't even die like a normal person, can you?"
Albus gave a little shrug. "I would apologise for the inconvenience, but all in all I still think I'm the one who's inconvenienced by my death the most."
"Yeah, you'd think that, wouldn't you?" Aberforth muttered darkly.
He was as prickly as always, but this time Minerva could see through that to the shock underneath. In a reversal of their usual dynamic, she offered the barman something to drink. It wouldn't help much, but it felt better than to do nothing.
Aberforth glanced at the glass of water and gave a snort. "Got anything stronger?"
Under different circumstances Minerva might have protested, but right now she understood where he was coming from. Without comment she poured Aberforth a generous glass of whisky and held it out to him.
He didn't say thank you, but he downed the glass in one gulp. "Was this part of your big plan? To go and get yourself killed before things get really bad?"
"Aberforth!" Minerva hissed. She instantly regretted that she had loosened his tongue further with that glass of whisky.
"What? Did you expect me to say something nice just because he's dying?"
"I expected you to behave like a normal, decent human being!"
"But we've never been a family of normal, decent people."
"What we are is a family that has limited time left."
After this little heated exchange Aberforth looked down at the empty glass in his hand. "Well, not that it matters, but I wasn't trying to be mean. It was an honest question. Is there a bloody point to making me the last one who has to carry the curse of the Dumbledore name alone?"
Albus took a step towards him. "My death will serve a purpose, but it wasn't planned, no. Perhaps it's the price you always told me I would have to pay one day for the mistakes I made in my youth. For hurting you and Ariana. That being said… it was not my intention to hurt you again and I will miss you, too."
Aberforth lifted his head and after a beat he stood and pulled Albus into a one-armed hug that was stiff and unfamiliar to both of them, but it was something. The relationship between these two brothers was too complicated to be fixed in whatever time Albus had left. They both knew that and they didn't pretend otherwise. What they could do, however, was to sit together and have another drink.
It felt strange this early in the morning, but the situation called for it. They didn't talk a lot as they poured their glasses. Aberforth wasn't much of a talker in any given situation and he was obviously still processing the news.
For now, being together was enough.
After a couple of hours Aberforth left again, remembering that Albus and Minerva were out here because they wanted to be alone. And he needed a moment to himself just as much.
Having closed the door behind his brother, Albus turned around to Minerva and said, "I'm sorry that was so unexpected and unpleasant."
"I don't think it was. I'm glad he knows." She and Aberforth weren't exactly close, but in a weird way Minerva felt less alone now.
Albus seemed to understand what she was saying and smiled at her. "Then so am I. But my brother and I have monopolised enough of our time today. What is it that you want to do?"
"Some actual food would be nice after the liquid breakfast we had."
"Agreed." Albus walked over to the kitchen counter to get their leftovers from yesterday's Christmas dinner.
"I don't believe this," Minerva said as she glanced out of the nearby window. "He's back again."
Albus looked over her shoulder at the red fox. "I swear I didn't feed him today."
Apparently aware that they were watching, the lonely animal raised its head and seemed to make eye contact with Minerva. Something in those beady eyes stopped her from turning away. "It really must be rough out there right now with that much snow. I guess we might as well help him out."
Grinning at her, Albus reached for the turkey legs and offered one to her.
And so they spent some time feeding the fox and then ate what was left and before Minerva had truly noticed it, Christmas had come and gone.
On New Year's Eve Minerva sat by the fire in the evening and enjoyed the quiet outside the cabin even more. She had never been a huge fan of fireworks, though the Weasley twins had made her appreciate them for a little while.
Albus appeared by her side and offered her a fresh cup of tea. He was holding it with his blackened hand. Every now and then Minerva caught herself looking at it, wishing there were some sign of improvement, of healing, even though she knew it wasn't possible. She knew that the curse would only spread, not wear off. And yet, with Albus being who he was, she couldn't stop hoping that he might be stronger than everyone thought. Only to be disappointed every time she saw his withered fingers. It was death by a thousand cuts – or looks in this case.
Tonight was New Year's. Half a year gone already since Albus had received his death sentence. Minerva had never felt like time was less on their side.
Her dark thoughts must have been infectious. Albus sat in the armchair next to her and said, "We need to talk about my will."
Minerva almost dropped her teacup. "No," she said as she put it down with a little too much force.
"I realise this isn't a pleasant topic of conversation for either of us. But if we keep avoiding it, it'll be too late at some point," Albus argued softly. "I have to put my affairs in order. There are only a handful of people who are important enough to me to make me want to invest some of my precious time to do this. All so I can make sure that they're taken care of. You are at the top of that list."
"Thank you for saying that, but you're not going to write that about me in your will, are you? So I don't see what I have to do with this." Minerva knew she was being stubborn. But the more they talked about his death, the closer they seemed to get to it. Especially on a day like New Year's Eve. A day to celebrate endings and new beginnings. Only what if there were no more new beginnings?
"That's exactly the problem. As my spouse you should inherit everything I own. But that won't be the case because there's no official record of that and now would be the worst possible time to create one. It would be like handing Voldemort a piece of parchment that tells him to hurt you." The expression on Albus' face was grave and angry at the thought.
"I don't want you to make it official," Minerva made one more attempt to explain herself calmly. "You know that. I never wanted anything other than to be with you. Just the two of us." She had said that so many times over the years. It hadn't changed.
Albus smiled at her lovingly, but she could tell that he wasn't deterred. "That's a wonderful sentiment and I've been a very lucky man because you've felt that way. But under the current circumstances it's no longer practical." He made a short pause and Minerva knew she wouldn't like what he was about to say next. "Since I can't write you into my will, I was thinking I should go to Gringotts once we get back and, trusting in the bank's discretion, transfer the gold from my vault to yours ahead of time…"
She had been wrong. She couldn't possibly have known how much she wouldn't like what he had to say. "Tell me you're not serious right now!" Minerva snapped and got to her feet. "Do you really think I want your money?"
Looking up at her, Albus tried to reason, "It's less about wanting it and more about possibly needing it one day. I'm not saying you have to keep it for yourself. You don't know what the future will bring, what it might take to keep everyone safe. You could give it to your family, to Catriona, to your great-nephew, anyone you love and wish to take care of."
It was a reasonable argument, but this entire thing had blindsided Minerva too much for her to be in a very reasonable mood. "I'm perfectly capable of protecting my family, Albus. The only one I can't protect or save is you and I don't want a reminder of that in my possession after you're gone."
She loved the intimacy of this small cabin. It was the perfect compensation for Albus' absences these past few months. There was absolutely no room to get away from one another. She hadn't expected to need or want that. But right now she couldn't think of a way to escape this conversation other than to storm outside.
A childish and stupid thing to do. Minerva didn't even take the time to bundle up. As a result she stood shivering in the snow. Feeling a little lost, she looked up at the sky. Without fireworks, the moon was the only light out here. She thought of Remus for a moment, but to her the sight was soothing. It, too, marked the passage of time, but it was ever-present in one way or another and it never truly went away. It allowed Minerva to take a couple of deep, calming breaths and to remember that she had promised herself that she wouldn't run away from facing reality. Holding herself to that promise got more difficult every day but also more important.
Either way, what she was doing right now wouldn't get her anywhere, unless she was looking to get pneumonia. Minerva turned around and saw that Albus was standing in the open doorway of the cabin, watching her, waiting.
He smiled when their gazes connected. "Sometimes I find myself wishing I had become a painter instead."
"What?" Minerva asked, completely baffled.
"Then I could preserve this moment forever," he explained.
"Why would you want that?" This did not feel like a memorable moment to Minerva.
"Because you've never looked more beautiful than you do right now shivering angrily in the moonlight." It should have been a bit of a joke, but Albus' face told her it wasn't.
She shook her head and laughed about her temper and his ability to love her for it. Then Minerva crossed the distance between them. As soon as she got to him, Albus wrapped a scarf around her neck, just in case she wanted to stay outside or stay away from him. He was giving her the choice, but Minerva had worked her way through her little flare-up.
"I will take everything that has sentimental value to either of us, but your money… give it to Hogwarts," she told him. "State in your will that you want it to go to the funds for students who need financial aid or to buying Rolanda new broomsticks, getting Pomona another greenhouse or perhaps even to paying the house-elves should they ever agree to it or, if you insist on doing me a personal favour, to refurbishing and equipping the Transfiguration Department."
Albus didn't answer right away, but then his smile grew to light up his entire face. "Every time I think I couldn't possibly love you more, you prove me wrong."
She didn't know how to respond, mostly because she didn't trust herself to speak around the lump of emotion in her throat.
They stood close together on the threshold for a while until Albus tugged at the ends of her scarf and asked, "Come to bed with me?"
It was a question she was entirely free to refuse, but there was a hint of urgency in his voice and a mute plea in his expression. They didn't have any time to waste. Still, Minerva took a moment to gaze at him, at his face, his lips, his eyes. Drowning in the blue depth of his eyes would have been the easiest of deaths, so much easier than the prospect of losing him slowly. But even if she had to die a little bit every day, her answer wouldn't change.
She mirrored his smile and nodded.
If this year had to end, Minerva thought, then being wrapped up in his arms and having him inside of her was the best way to do it.
A/N: This chapter is the beating heart of my book six chapters. It's also the longest chapter I've ever written for this story. That's because when it was done, I kept going back to add to it. I just couldn't let go, knowing what's to come very soon. I wanted to spend more time with Albus and Minerva in a (mostly) happy setting. I really hope you enjoyed it and it wasn't too long. Either way, from the bottom of my heart, I wish you all happy holidays and I hope you get to spend some time with the ones you love!