Disclaimer: Surprisingly, I don't own Harry Potter, Minerva, Albus or any of the other characters that appear in this story. I just own the plot.

A/N: Ok, the second chapter as I promised! I'm getting good at this updating thing, and yes, it had taken me a while to get the hang of it. I think it's because I now have nothing, yes nothing to do at all. If anyone has some beta work that needs doing, or anything they want some help with, I am definitely there! At least until the 27th of July, after which I will be away for three weeks, so don't expect anything then as I won't have access to a computer, which believe me will be horrid.

I know the scene from Albus' office didn't actually happen, or at least isn't in the books, but I thought it worked out ok in the end, so please, have a read and let me know what you think, even if you don't like it you can still review, just as long as you tell me why ok? Please R&R I'm begging here!

Summary: A prank that results in a very angry Professor McGonagall. But perhaps not angry for long? Read on to find out! R&R Thank you!

Lemon Sherbet

An MMAD Story

Chapter Two: The Memory

Hermione knocked lightly on Professor McGonagall's door, shaking like a leaf at the thought of what she was about to do. She couldn't think what had gotten into her today, she would never normally be this… well, reckless. McGonagall would either hug her or kill her when this was all over, she couldn't be sure which. Of course, the thought of being expelled frightened her, but she didn't think that was very likely, after all, she was top of the year and for now, McGonagall and Flitwick's favourite pupil. How long it would stay that way could not be seen by anyone, least of all Sybil Trelawney!

Minerva waved the door open and beckoned her student inside, pushing it closed behind her and turning to face the stone basin now sat on her desk, face carefully impassive for the moment, still feeling very unprepared for what was to come but her nose was tickled a little by the scent she had been wearing all day, and her heart lifted. Hermione just stood and watched the hypnotic, mesmerising movement of the memories for a few moments as she had never seen a Pensieve before and the sight of so many memories, maybe hundreds, maybe thousands, swimming around in that basin took her breath away. Harry's feeble descriptions were nothing on the real thing, but then even she would struggle to make an adequate description of this marvel.

Minerva waited patiently for her to get used to the sight, then moved forward and offered her hand for the phial. Hermione took it from the inside pocket of her robes and handed it to her, almost without looking, going to stand still closer, still marvelling. The professor had to hold back a chuckle as her favourite student frowned and looked questioningly up at her. There was always a tint of naivety to the girl's countenance when she didn't know something, a trait Minerva found very endearing.

"What is it Hermione?" Her tone was gentle, and Hermione swallowed and asked quietly, with definite wonder in her voice,

"Are these your memories?" Minerva nodded, a touch of regret and sadness becoming pronounced in her face, which made Hermione instantly want to take back her words, and hastened to move on from it. It was clear these were not memories her professor cherished or even wanted, and later she would ponder what could have scarred the woman she looked up to so much. It was a point to which she didn't think she would ever have an answer, but would think about for a long time.

"Well, shall we? Although the memory itself is relatively short, you will probably have questions afterwards." Hermione explained briskly. Minerva concealed her amusement at the business-like tone her student had adopted for a brief moment and nodded, uncorking the phial and tipping the memory in alongside her own, hoping no shadow of what they contained would rub off on Harry's. Breathing deeply, she positioned her wand above the basin, gripped Hermione's wrist, and gently touched her wand to the shimmering surface, hoping once again that her pupil knew what she was doing.

There was that familiar feeling of falling for a few moments, then they landed in a room Minerva knew so very well: Dumbledore's office. She brushed some imaginary dust from her robes to disguise the flash of a smile in her eyes, then looked around for Hermione as she tried to ignore the rush of happiness being near him gave her. She could tell he was here, just from the feeling of the room. It was dead without him. Hermione was standing by the Harry from the memory, who was sat in the chair she herself had sat so often in, when they talked into the night about anything and everything, a chair he had transferred from his original office because he was so fond of the burgundy colour. He never really gave up his feeling of belonging to Gryffindor.

In her student days, the main topic of discussion used to be her subject, his at the time: Transfiguration. Then, as she grew up and became a teacher, the discussions moved on to Grindlewald, politics, then Voldemort and now that all was finished with those wars, topics varied from romance to art to literature. The romance was always in the past tense, for it seemed as though neither of them had had any relationships to speak of for many years. Hers had been down to her undeniable attraction to him, but he had always avoided the subject when asked about it.

Minerva pulled herself out of her thoughts with some difficulty and went over to stand between Harry and Albus, but slightly to the side, so she could see their faces in profile. They were talking about Harry's year and, by the sounds of it, this was the end of his third or possibly the beginning of his fourth year. He didn't have that scar in his eyes, the one that told Minerva he had seen death. Hermione was watching Harry intently and Minerva listened to what was being said, although part of her was telling her she shouldn't be eavesdropping on this conversation. She definitely did pay attention when she heard her name come up in their talk.

"And McGonagall can finally let me go to Hogsmeade, Sirius sent me a note of permission!" Harry told Albus triumphantly, waving a bit of parchment at the Headmaster with a grin that made the twinkle in Albus' eyes intensify to a degree that Minerva rarely saw during those years. It made her heart warm to know that Albus had let himself be that glad, she knew that he had been increasingly drawn-out and tense during those years, once he knew that the threat they had been fearing was once again rearing it's ugly head.

"Professor McGonagall was only following the rules which keep you safe Harry. She cannot be blamed if they don't agree with you." Albus demurred in a gentle but firm tone. Minerva smiled at the gesture, she knew Harry wasn't being intentionally rude, but still, a 'Professor McGonagall' was nice occasionally, she still felt a small stirring of happiness in her core every time she heard it, especially from Albus' lips, as he had been the first one to say it.

She also smiled at the fact she could see Hermione looking at her anxiously, in case she was annoyed by Harry's outburst, which she most certainly wasn't. Casting a soothing glance at her student, she turned to listen to Harry's reply, noting how Hermione watched him so carefully he would definitely have been unnerved had he been able to see her. Harry shifted in his chair, a blush growing in his cheeks, which made Minerva smile even wider and shake her head. Hermione visibly relaxed and stood more easily, waiting for Harry to speak.

"I know." Harry began awkwardly, running a hand through his unkempt hair. "But she doesn't seem to mind disobeying the rules when you ask her to." He finished, recovering himself quickly and raising an eyebrow at Dumbledore, wondering if it was time to breach the subject he had long wanted to ask about. Minerva could see a slight pink brushing Albus' cheeks under his beard and she couldn't help chuckling to herself when she saw it. It wasn't often you saw Albus Dumbledore blush.

"My dear boy, do you really think my Minerva is ever happy breaking the rules? She runs her life by them, for reasons unknown to me and yes, perhaps she doesn't break them very often, except when I ask her to, but that is because I wouldn't ask it of her unless it was absolutely necessary and she knows that." Albus could feel his cheeks getting brighter as he rambled at a slightly-too-fast pace, to try and cover his little slip of the tongue. He could feel Harry waiting to jump in and question him about 'his' Minerva and Albus hoped vainly if he talked for long enough, he'd give up and might possibly save Minerva's reputation at the same time. She would never forgive him fo revealing her other side to her students. Sadly, Harry was not in a patient mood and decided it was time Albus admitted out loud what everyone else, but her, knew.

"Professor, rambling doesn't suit you." He cut across the Headmaster loudly, overriding whatever it was he had been saying, not that it mattered. Minerva was rooted to the spot, not knowing what to think or do. Albus had made her heart leap and sink in the space of a few seconds. He had called her 'his', a phrasing she had never thought would come from him but it was delightful when it did, and then had described her as a strict rule abider, as if she never had any fun! He knew her better than that, surely? It never occurred to her he was trying to defend her.

Hermione was looking from one face to another, obviously unsure whether to laugh or cry. Clearly, Harry had not recounted this memory word for word. 'This is all slightly ridiculous,' Minerva thought, she knew Dumbledore would never have let that slip on purpose and especially not in front of Harry, who was so close to her. As soon as Harry spoke, Albus ceased his prattling. He knew that, eventually, Harry would question him about it anyway, why put it off if it had to be done? The sooner it was over the better, in his opinion.

"I apologise Harry." He said, a lot calmer than before, leaning back in his chair and resting his fingertips together in a pose Minerva knew well as one that meant he was preparing to have his mind picked over. She herself had done so on several occasions, though never on this type of topic. Harry leant forward and watched his mentor eagerly, as if waiting for the perfect moment to spring. Minerva waited with baited breath for what was to come, conscious of Hermione jigging from one foot to the other in anticipation just in view of her peripheral vision. It added a dose of humour to the situation.

"Professor, what did you mean by calling Professor McGonagall 'yours'?" Harry asked, trying to sound patient and understanding but Minerva could see he was anything but those things, and if she could see it, so could Dumbledore. When would that boy learn some self-control? Then again, she could hardly talk this time; she could taste her own heart in her mouth. Albus watched Harry minutely, thinking exactly how he could answer truthfully and not give too much away. It wouldn't do for anyone to hear of this, after all, especially Minerva herself.

"A mere slip of the tongue Harry, surely you will forgive an old man with a forgetful memory?" He asked, smiling gently and piercing Harry with his eyes with a look Minerva was as familiar with as Harry: 'Don't start.' The difference between the two was their reaction to the look. Minerva would have taken heed and left well alone, and had done many times, though of course there was the odd occasion where she had felt it necassary to follow up on what she had said. Harry however did not even hesitate.

"You don't need to apologise. There isn't anything wrong with saying it, I mean, she's your Deputy and friend, but then, I don't think that's what you meant, is it?" Harry returned, smiling benignly and giving the Headmaster a pointed look. Dumbledore did not take the bait however, and answered only the first of Harry's remarks. This was getting a little too personal so before Harry had a chance to elaborate, Albus spoke in a final sort of tone that indicated an end to their talk, which didn't exactly have the desired effect.

"Thank you Harry. Now I think it's time for you to be in bed, off you go. Sleep well." Even while trying to be cold to the boy, Albus still managed to make the goodnight sound warm and pleasant. Perhaps it was that touch of warmth that made Harry decide to disobey his mentor, something he would never have done with Minerva. Harry didn't move, not paying any attention to the abrupt dismissal. The professor could tell her cub was in a stubborn mood, thank goodness.

"Tell me sir, what is it like to be in love?" He asked, startling the Headmaster with an unexpected question, so much so he gave an answer immediately with a painful note of truth shining through it that Professor McGonagall could identify with very well. It was what she felt like when she left his rooms after one of their talks, wishing she had plucked up the nerve to ask him what she really wanted to know, but knowing what they had discussed was probably a better and safer topic.

"It is the most wonderful feeling in the world Harry, even if the centre of one's love is unaware of how you feel though that can add a twist of bittersweetness to how one feels. It gives the object of your love the power to entrall and delight you, with the simplest of sweet gestures. But at the same time, that power can also mean that other gestures that are not so pleasant, that normally would not mean a lot, send a blow of great power through your very core."

Harry frowned, but Minerva saw the flash of satisfaction in his eyes as he leaned forward in his chair again, resting his elbows on his knees and watching the older man before him with his brilliant green eyes. Involuntarily, the tune of Harry's valentine from second year started to dance through Minerva's mind "His eyes are as green as a speckled toad…" until it was driven away by Harry's pointed and probing question.

"Surely love is more fulfilling if it is given and received?" Harry asked not so subtly, meeting Albus' eyes and staring into them, hoping he would see an emotion or something he could use to draw the confession from him. He was determined not to let the Headmaster wriggle his way out of saying it this time, it was only denial and possibly fear that was keeping these two amazing people apart, and they were foolish reasons. Albus sighed, a little uncomfortably, and adjusted his glasses before answering in a quiet, almost ashamed tone,

"I wouldn't know Harry. I have never been in that situation. My affections were placed in the academic side of things for so long, it seemed impossible for anyone to bring them back again until I met-" Albus caught himself just in time, just before the name slipped off his tongue along with the rest of his dignity. "Anyway, since that happened, it has only ever been her." Harry's face had showed enough shock already, and he had only added to it with that last statement and his shock was reflected unknowingly in the two observers faces as well before Harry saw fit to reply in a mildly surprised tone, which did not fit his expression,

"Why have you never told her Professor?" Now it was Albus' turn to be stunned. He had never known any person, Wizarding or otherwise, to take such an interest in anyone's love life before, except those ridiculous Muggle celebrity people and Rita Skeeter of course, but this was Harry Potter. He may love adventures but as far as Albus knew, found relationships as complicated as the Headmaster! Never before this conversation would he have believed of the boy.

Minerva's eyes never left Albus' face for a second the whole time this conversation had been passing, except for the tiniest possible amount of time it took to blink, and she had been edging slowly closer to Albus while whole time, a fact only Hermione could notice. Minerva's heart was still in her mouth, she could almost feel it pounding at the back of her throat. She now knew Albus was in love, and he had never told the object of his affections, or her. She couldn't help but wonder why; she had always been completely honest with him about everything in her life, though there had hardly been anything to talk about when it came to her love life, and now here he was telling a student something he had never told her. She did not think she was that hard to talk to.

There were only two possible reasons for him not to tell her; either she would not approve (how could she approve when she wanted him herself anyway?) or, dare she think it, it was her and he didn't want to ruin their friendship with something as hugely complicated as a romantic relationship, which was always her reason for never mentioning anything to him. She edged a little closer still and held her breath, waiting anxiously for an answer that would make or break her heart.

"I have never told her because she and I have a relationship that is very special to me, and if something were to go wrong or if she did not return my feelings," Albus' voice shook very slightly there, "I would have completely destroyed the very thing I hold most dear." Albus answered slowly, choosing his words carefully so he did not give himself away but was also completely truthful. Harry nodded, and smiled at the answer so typical of his mentor. It gave him hope that perhaps one day, he would see them dancing together, but as a couple and not as Headmaster and Deputy.

Minerva clasped her hands together and pressed them over her heart, joy and love the like of which she had never felt soaring inside her. It was her, it had to be. He loved her. After all these years, she finally knew and words could not describe just how happy she was, how elated. He loved her. It just kept repeating itself over and over inside her mind, like a sort of chant: He loved her. Hermione grinned as she recognised the happiness in her professor's eyes and knew she had done the right thing. They could be together now, she knew it. The indirect admission on his part made it so much easier for her to say something to him face to face. Harry seemed as pleased with the answer as Hermione and grinned at Dumbledore, already going over various possibilities and ways to get McGonagall to hear about this, for there were no two ways about it, she had to know.

"Thank you Professor. And if it would make you feel better to know it, I think she loves you just as much, if not more, than you love her." Minerva gasped and had to bite back the snap she felt like directing at Harry to be quiet! A lot of good it would have done anyway. Luckily, or perhaps not, Albus merely looked faintly amused and shook his head, obviously not believing a word while sighing lightly, longingly Minerva thought, before smiling. Minerva was in no doubt now; she would have to speak to Harry about the various advantages to being subtle, and the consequences of interfering.

"Thank you Harry. Now, off to bed, chop chop. If you meet a professor on your way to Gryffindor Tower, just tell them to firecall me." This time Harry stood, albeit reluctantly, muttering about something to do with Snape and not believing a word he said, which made Minerva's mouth twitch (she used to encounter the same problem coming back from Albus' office when she was having Animagus training late at night, though with another professor) but still bid Albus goodnight and walked to the door before pausing and looking back, Minerva's eyes were still trained on him warily. There was something mischievous in his expression that reminded Minerva incredibly of his father as Harry's eyes swung back to Dumbledore.

"Professor?"

"Yes Harry?"

"I won't tell her, yet. But you should. She might break the rules for you again. Goodnight." Minerva and Albus gasped at exactly the same time, though of course, only Minerva was aware of it, and she flushed quite brightly so she resembled the colour of a tomato as the door snapped shut behind her young Gryffindor with a satisfied click. It was all a little surreal and her mind was still buzzing. Hermione grinned and went over to lay a gentle hand on her professor's arm to bring her back to earth, she looked in quite a daze and was staring in shock at the door Harry had just exited through.

Hermione supposed it was the shock out finding out her secrets weren't as secret as she thought they were, and of course, Dumbledore has gasped because it was the first time that evening a direct connection between Minerva and the woman of Albus' story had been made, and although Professor McGonagall must have known it was her, having it put so clearly like that probably brought it all back into focus. Minerva shook herself mentally as she felt the hand slide over her arm and, taking Hermione's elbow, brought them out of the memory before one of her own replaced it, shaking only slightly but Hermione noticed with a small flicker of concern.

As they fell back into the present, Hermione turned reluctantly to the Professor and awaited her fate. She had been very lucky to escape punishment last time; surely she would not be so fortunate again, though it would undoubtedly be worth it and Harry had promised her a Butterbeer for the trouble anyway. Not that a detention was worth a Butterbeer, but at least she was getting something from it apart from satisfaction of helping the woman she looked up to. Minerva took a few deep breaths, trying to think clearly but all she could hear were Harry and Albus' words ringing in her ears. Blinking to hopefully clear her senses, she looked down and saw Hermione waiting before her with an anxious face.

Suddenly, she did something she'd never done before: she hugged a student. She wrapped Hermione in her arms and hugged her tightly, whispering thank you after thank you in her ear while a few tears struggled up to shine in her eyes, thankfully unseen. Hermione, after her initial shock, raised her arms and returned the embrace willingly, gently patting Minerva on the back in a comforting way and grinning so wide it felt like her face was about to split in half, surprised but pleased. Minerva eventually came to her senses and released her, muttering a short sorry but secretly glad she had been able to show some affection for the girl who had just changed her life. Hermione just grinned, a lot more than pleased with how it had all gone, and she asked quietly, in a much less obtrusive way than Harry had phrased his questions,

"Will you tell him now?" Minerva looked down at Hermione, considering, wondering whether to answer or not, her habit of being private fighting her sense, but in the end she decided the girl deserved an answer, since this was a day for honesty on everyone except Rolanda Hooch's part. Minerva did still have to deal with her… She let her mind gather that problem up and save it for later, when she could allow herself an evil grin and free reign on all the wonderfully wicked ideas she was sure she could cook up. The flying instructor definitely deserved something truly iniquitous and Minerva would be the one to give it to her.

"I will speak to him." She promised, nodding slowly. She then hurriedly turned and scooped up the memory from the dish and dangled it back into the vial before handing it to her student, so that the nervousness that enveloped her when she admitted she would talk about her feelings could remain unseen. Hermione looked satisfied, and slid the phial back into her robes as she turned around to head for the door, but for the second time today, turned back. Minerva looked up and smiled, a new hope shining in her eyes that could not be diminished by nerves, one Hermione had never seen before and she had been studying those eyes for years.

"Professor, may I ask you something?"

"Certainly."

"Are you, um, glad I showed you the memory?" Hermione blurted out, smiling hopefully and watching the other's face with a practised eye, one that could tell if she was being lied to, and also if the answer would be what she wanted to hear. She hoped she had done the right thing, knew she had done the right thing but still, reassurance never hurt anyone. She had never felt comfortable delving into people's love lives, her professor's least of all. Minerva actually grinned in response to that. Of all the questions! Didn't she know the answer already?

"Yes Hermione, I am very glad you showed me that memory." The honest gladness reverberating in that answer reassured the young woman more than she had hoped for. Hermione grinned back and left, hurrying as fast as she could up to Gryffindor Tower where Ron and Harry were sat up waiting for her, hopefully doing something constructive but more likely playing chess or some other such nonsense that would never be any use except when the Headmaster had decided to hide a Philosopher's stone in the school, but how often did that happen?

Minerva waved her hand at the door and it swung shut behind her pupil, sensing where her thoughts had turned to and feeling a motherly concern that Hermione was worrying too much about those two, but she had to admit it was a good thing she did, for the boys anyway. Then her thoughts took a different turn and recounted the evening, her mind spinning a little at the thought of all she had discovered. Now all she had to do was tell Albus. Sadly, it was not as simple as it sounded. Sighing, she picked up her wand from her desk where she had placed it a few seconds before and held it to the surface of the Pensieve, wondering how on earth one started a conversation where the main theme was revealing your innermost secrets.