Albus popped into the Staff room hoping to find Minerva. Such was not his luck. Instead what faculty he did find in the room were all crowded around one small table. At the sound of his opening of the door, they turned towards him in unison – their matching expressions one of guilt.

"Oh good! It's just you." Flitwick practically squealed in relief.

Kettleburn explained the situation. "With only a couple of weeks more to go we've started taking bets on what Minerva is going to name this one. You want in?"

Not waiting for an a response, Kettleburn continued. "I'm trying to decide between Cobb and Howard Johnson – Hojo for short."

"I've got Wiesloch." Poppy chimed in. "Waldorf and Wiesloch. Goes well together – don't you think?"

Kettleburn snorted. "Waldorf and Wiesloch don't work well together and they don't work apart."

Already well aware of how unimpressed his staff was with the name he had picked out, Albus refrained from commenting.

"I picked Caesar." Flitwick proclaimed proudly.

"I'm putting money down on both Yorkshire and Mesclun." Sprout added.

Having long since ceased being shocked at the behavior of his staff, it was only out of habit that he started to scold them. Thinking better of it, he decided to teach them a lesson in a different way.

"I'll put 100 galleons on Juliet."

"Do you have 100 galleons on you?" Kettleburn asked. "Because we're collecting the money when you pick your name."

"No honor system?"

"We have no honor." Kettleburn pointed out.

"Clearly." Albus agreed as he fished in his robe pockets. "Twenty-four galleons on Juliet."

Taking the money, Kettleburn didn't bother to record Albus's guess. "You lose. Make a stop at Gringotts, come back and try again."

Albus started to object, but Pomona beat him to it. "Now, now Kettleburn. You can't be sure of that. After all, she named the first one Waldorf. She might name this one Juliet even though it's a boy."

Albus frowned. "You can't know that. Minerva declined to have Poppy run the test that would ..."

Albus trailed off as one by one everyone's gaze turned in the direction of the school's medi-witch.

Poppy herself was making a great show of looking at her nails, at her shoes, out the window – in short anywhere but at him.

Minerva – Albus realized – was wrong. Poppy was a worse gossip than the goblins.

Before turning and leaving, Albus offered them an observation. "You are all horrible, wretched people. Every one of you."

OOOOOOOOO

Once Albus finally succeeded in tracking Minerva down, he found himself almost wishing he hadn't.

She was in her classroom, at her desk with what had to be the entire year's worth of confiscated candy spread out across it. Minerva might not ordinarily have much of a sweet tooth but the little imp growing inside of her would already appear ready to give Albus a run for his money. Particularly alarming to him was the way she was eyeing the contents of a bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans.

"Good afternoon my dear."

In place of a more traditional greeting, Minerva greeted him by asking, "Do any of these look like a lemonade flavored bean to you?"

Albus didn't answer. Watching her pour the beans out onto the desk his mouth had become uncomfortably dry. His trepidation grew watching her manually sort the magic resistant beans by color.

"What about this one?" Minerva examined one of the yellow beans for a moment before holding it out to him.

Albus shrugged indifferently. Having once had a rather unfortunate incident with a similarly colored Bertie Bott's bean - as Minerva was well aware - Albus had no real interest in speculating on the flavor.

Minerva was not to be so easily put off. "Well?"

"To me it looks like a vomit flavored bean, but then to me they all do." He knew it probably wasn't what she wanted to hear, but it was the truth and she had persisted.

"Oh." Minerva frowned. After the slightest of pauses, she started again. "Of course, I wouldn't want to eat a vomit flavored bean given the morning sickness that I am still having – day and night - but I did so have a longing for a lemonade flavored Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Bean."

"Couldn't I just get you a glass of lemonade?" Albus asked.

At his words a smiling, eager to be of service house elf appeared.

"No." Minerva responded quickly and firmly. "It's not the same."

With Minerva's words, the now dejected looking elf disappeared.

Albus corrected her. "Ah my dear, but it is. That's the whole point of Bertie Bott's -"

Seeing Minerva's expression darken, Albus thought it best to leave off that train of reasoning.

She however persisted. "If only there were a spell to reveal the flavor in advance."

Albus held his tongue. Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans were impervious to magic – a fact she very well knew.

After a long pause, she added. "I did so have a craving for a lemonade flav -"

Lacking a bit perhaps in his usual grace and charm, Albus snatched the bean from her hand. After taking the tiniest of nibbles, Albus grimaced and declared. "Sand."

"Are you sure?" Minerva asked with a frown. "That was such a small bite. It hardly seems like you should be able to tell from that bite."

Anything to move away from the yellow beans, Albus gestured towards a pink bean. "What about a nice refreshing pink lemonade?"

Ignoring the suggestion, she picked up another equally as yellow. "What about this one?"

He despised Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. She knew that he despised Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. She knew that he knew that she knew that he despised Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. She was deliberately torturing him and they both knew it. Still, he took the proffered bean.

"I wonder..." Minerva made casual conversation as he continued to sample all the yellow beans. "Have you ever considered inviting Bertie Bott into the Order?"

"Lemon juice – unsweetened." Albus called out.

"Think of the defensive capabilities. If he can make a bean impervious to magic ..."

The conversation was mostly one sided as Albus screwed up all of his Gryffindor courage to try one after another.

"Yellow snow."

Minerva raised an eyebrow at that. "How is it that you know what yellow snow tastes like?"

Finding it best to not answer, Albus changed the subject. "Have you thought about names?"

"I already told you – Juliet."

"And if it's another boy?"

"This time it's a girl. I'm absolutely sure of it."

Tasting the last of the yellow beans - "Burnt butter" - a relieved Albus attempted to be gentle in breaking the news that he had recently learned.

"A little girl would be lovely, but really don't you think we aught to consider the possibility -"

His relief was short lived as she opened a desk drawer to reveal that he had either underestimated greatly just how much candy Minerva had confiscated from her students this year or over estimated how often she cleaned out her drawers.

"Dragon dung." Albus said with a cough as they recommenced.

"Dragon dung?" Minerva questioned him.

"Peruvian Vipertooth to be more precise."

"You're sure it's not Norwegian Ridgeback?"

`"Norwegian Ridgeback has a more smokey flavor than -"

"- Now you're just making things up. Please, tell me you are just making things up!"

"I assure you, my dear, I would never jest about that."

"When – no more importantly why did you taste dragon dung?"

"Well you see once Nicolas Flamel and I -"

Rolling her eyes, Minerva waved off his explanation and handed him yet another yellow bean.

He gagged a few beans later as he finally encountered the dreaded bean. "Vomit."

"Oh." Minerva clucked less than sympathetically. "Poor thing."

Perhaps, Albus realized, he should have been less glib and more sympathetic the night before when Minerva had complained that she hadn't realized that morning sickness could extend to evening sickness and that it wasn't something that necessarily resolved itself within the first few months of pregnancy.

Perhaps it would have been wiser to hold his tongue instead of suggesting that Minerva had always been an over achiever.

Having completed his penance, Albus returned to their earlier conversation. "I'm sure you're right, but what if it's not a little girl? Perhaps we should consider having Poppy perform the spell to tell?"

"That's really not necessary, Albus."

He just didn't want her to be disappointed the day of. That was his reasoning. At least that was his thought until he saw the malicious glint in her eyes as she reached into the desk to produce yet another bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans.

"Well ... since you've picked the name if it's a girl perhaps I could select a name just in case it's a boy."

Minerva hesitated.

"I mean what's the harm – if you're so sure it is a girl?"

Minerva still didn't answer.

"Unless you're not sure ..."

"Oh, I'm certain."

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously as he asked. "What's the harm then in letting me select a boy's name?"

OOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"He's perfect! Simply perfect!"

"Mmm."

At Minerva's less than enthusiastic response, Albus finally managed to tear his sight from their newborn son. Of course it hadn't been possible for him to be in the room for the delivery. It was only once Poppy had left the room for a moment to get the birth certificate that he had been able to sneak inside the Hospital Ward.

The baby appeared perfect in every way, but was there perhaps something not readily visible?

"What's wrong? Is something wrong with the baby?"

"No, no of course not!" Minerva scoffed.

"Then what is it?" Albus asked. "Aren't you happy?"

"Well of course I'm happy." Reaching out a finger to stroke the baby's cheek, Minerva dismissed his concerns.

"Then what is it?" Albus asked.

"Minerva?" Albus insisted.

"Well … it's just … wouldn't a little girl be nice?"

Albus wasn't sure how to answer. "Yes, a little girl would have been nice."

"Let's try again."

"Minerva no! Let's not press our luck."

An end was put to the discussion by Poppy's return. "How did you get in here, Headmaster?"

"Magic." Albus answered.

Poppy frowned at him. Her frown deepened considerably as she turned to Minerva. "Now about that name ... Minerva, are you absolutely certain that you want to name the baby Statler?"

Minerva herself looked less than thrilled at the name, but with a glance his way and a sigh she answered. "Yes, I'm sure."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

That night happily curled up in a basket with Minerva and their two 'kittens' Albus tried not to think about what exactly Minerva would do to him if she were ever to realize that he had named their children after the two hecklers in his favorite muggle television program.

Finis