When Minerva awoke, it took a few moments before she remembered she was not in her own bedroom. She realised it was late when she saw the sunlight pooling in from behind the drapes. She moved to get up, then thought the better of it. Albus was still sleeping, snoring gently next to her, and besides, she thought, they had already missed breakfast in the Great Hall, an occurrence that was bound to be remarked upon for its rarity.

She settled back into her pillow and thought about what had happened the previous night. It had occurred to her, when Albus first looked at her with such violence, that he thought she was having a tryst with the boy in the caretaker's office, but she had quickly realised how ridiculous that was. Albus was not a jealous man—certainly not an insecure one—and he knew her very well. The notion that he could have believed, even for an instant, that she might invite a sexual relationship with anyone else—especially a student—was preposterous.

As he had besieged her—and there was no other word for it, she thought—she had understood that he was pouring into her all the rage and frustration and fear that had been building over the months the way he sometimes poured intense memories into the Pensieve so he could focus on whatever task was at hand.

And Albus Dumbledore always had an important task at hand. He was a man pulled in more directions than the unfortunate John Ballard. That had been a source of friction between them often enough. Not because she was resentful of the time he had to devote to the needs of the school and great, wide world (although at times she was; she couldn't help it), but because she was sometimes afraid for him, that he would break under the strain.

And so, when he had set upon her that way last night, she accepted it without protest because she was his wife, and it was the path she had chosen when she hitched her star to his. She would allow herself to be subsumed because she loved him and because his belief in the greater good demanded it.

There were compensations, she thought, looking at the greying man sleeping beside her. Whatever the challenges that came with being with this complicated, brilliant wizard, she would not have to suffer the troubles that plagued many women: boredom, insecurity, jealousy, nor the resentment of a husband who couldn't compete with his wife's achievements and talents; she had seen too many marriages founder on the rocks of unequal power.

Then there was the sex, of course. That had always been so right between them, and he could still touch her in ways that moved her more than any other man she had known. That much was evident from last night, she thought, feeling a quick warmth flood her face. After the storm had passed, he had been so tender and careful. Not apologetic—just wanting to give her pleasure, knowing that her body had been hard-used already that night.

As she was considering this, he awoke. He smiled when his eyes had recovered from their sleepy languor and saw her already awake, looking at him.

"Good morning, my angel," he said. "How long have you been up?"

"Just a few minutes," she answered, kissing his lips in greeting. "I was enjoying watching you sleep."

"It would appear we've missed breakfast," he said, not sounding terribly concerned about it.

"I'll have a house-elf bring something," she said. "Although we'll need to come up with a good excuse for going missing this morning, I think." When he shrugged, she added, "Unless you'd like to explain to everyone that the Headmaster and Deputy Headmistress were too exhausted from their heavy shagging session to appear at breakfast."

"Shagging session?" he asked.

"That's what the children call it, I believe," she said. "Shall I see about getting us something to eat? I seem curiously in need of sustenance this morning."

"By all means. You do manage to surprise me every so often, my dear," he said, still chuckling at her novel turn of phrase.

"I should hope so," she answered, getting out of bed and beginning to gather the detritus of the previous evening to see what could be salvaged.

"You know, you did look rather pretty last night, Minerva," he said as she collected the remains of her ruined gown from the floor. "Pity about the dress."

~FIN~

Author's Notes: If you enjoyed this story, you might like these others set in the same universe:

Bonnie Wee Thing ~ A short story that takes place on the day of Minerva McGonagall's birth. (Minerva McGonagall, OCs; G)

Epithalamium ~ A novel chronicling Minerva McGonagall's life from her final year at Hogwarts through her first year teaching. (Albus/Minerva, Tom Riddle; NC-17)

Come Autumn, Sae Pensive (1967) ~ A novel following Minerva McGonagall and Albus Dumbledore through an unexpected pregnancy and its aftermath. (Albus/Minerva, Poppy, Molly; NC-17)

Famliar Rituals (1977) ~ A short story about some end-of-term rituals and how Minerva McGonagall became Head of Gryffindor House. (Albus/Minerva; NC-17)

Mammals of the Order Chiroptera (August 1995) ~ A short story in which Severus Snape observes members of the Order of the Phoenix at closer range than he would perhaps like. (Albus/Minerva, Severus; R)

Ca' the Yowes (1996) ~ A fluffy short story featuring Minerva McGonagall just after the Stunner attack in Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. (Minerva, OC; PG)

Because It Is Bitter, and Because It Is My Heart ~ A novella about the lengths Minerva McGonagall and Severus Snape must go to in the prosecution of the war after Dumbledore's death. (Minerva, Severus; NC-17; Caution: Non-con, dub-con)