Quidditch Refugee

It was the worst defeat that Gryffindor had suffered in many a long year, made far worse by the fact that it had been inflicted by their great rivals Slytherin. Everything that could possibly have gone against Gryffindor, had done just that. Albus didn't even need to look at Minerva, to know that she was seething with barely controlled fury. And when a gloating Severus Snape tried to commiserate with her, the look on her face was positively murderous.

"Thank you Severus, that is most gracious of you," Albus said, as he steered his wife in the direction of their private chambers, before she hexed Severus.

As the door to their chambers slammed shut, Minerva released her pent up anger by flinging her hat and cloak violently into the corner. This did not seem to make her feel any better at all, for she then proceeded to pace furiously back and forth.

"There there my dear, it's only Quidditch," Albus said soothingly. Then he saw the look on Minerva's face, and knew he'd said the wrong thing. "I'm sure Gryffindor will win next time."

"We deserved to win this time," Minerva snapped, "And we would have won too, if those Slytherins hadn't cheated."

"Minerva, I really don't think..." Albus began.

"That much is obvious," Minerva snapped, as she kicked the sofa in passing, "Only Quidditch indeed, what a ridiculous thing to say!"

Albus bridled at her sarcasm. "One might say that it is also ridiculous to get so worked up about a mere game," He snapped, as irritation momentarily got the better of him.

At once Minerva's furious gaze was upon him, emerald green eyes boring into him. "Those blasted Slytherins cheated, if they had won fair and square, but they cheated! That is more than a mere game, Albus! You should do something about it Albus!"

"Minerva, you are being..." Albus began.

"Ridiculous?!"

"Of course not my dear, but really what do you expect me to do?" Albus smiled placatingly at Minerva.

"Oh, I see! I was not aware that cheating was permitted at Hogwarts!" Minerva snarled indignantly.

"Minerva, I did not see any cheating whatsoever, and I am quite certain that Severus would not permit his Slytherins to cheat."

"Oh, don't be so ridiculously naive you old fool! Were you asleep throughout the entire game?! The evidence was right before your eyes if you had bothered to open them!"

Albus really couldn't help the pang of anger he felt, after all it was not his fault that Gryffindor had lost, and he was disappointed too. "I assure you I was not asleep, and nor were my eyes closed. In my opinion Slytherin deserved to win, after all they were the better team on the day."

"Get out!" Minerva snarled, her voice shaking with fury, finger pointing furiously at the door.

"I beg your pardon?" Albus said stunned.

"Out! Get out!" Minerva took a threatening step forward, and Albus decided that sensible retreat was the best option.

As he reached the door, Albus turned sorrowful eyes on his wife. "Really my love, I know you are a little upset..." He began, then Minerva reached for her wand, and Albus fled.

Less than an hour later he was banging on Aberforth's door. The door creaked slowly open, and his brother peered round it, his bright gaze taking in Albus' forlorn features. "Quidditch refugee?"

Albus' shoulders sagged mournfully in response.

"Aye, thought you'd turn up... What did you go and say this time? You need a bloody good drink, you do." A vigourous slap on the back nearly knocked all the air out of Albus' lungs.

"Ooooof!" He said, as his brother drew him into the room, and gestured to a seat by the blazing fire.

Aberforth eyed Albus appraisingly, "Threw you out, did she?"

"How did you know?"

"Thought she might, saw the look on her face after the game, and you never did know when to keep your mouth shut," Aberforth answered gruffly, "Been waiting for you, got the strong stuff ready..."

"Really just hot chocolate..." Albus began.

A strong hand slapped him on the back again. "What good will that insipid muck do you?! Always said women will drive a man to drink! Don't know why you bother with them, better off with goats!"

"I love her," Albus protested, once he'd recovered his breath.

"Then you'll be needing something stonger than hot chocolate."

"Well perhaps just a little brandy in it..." Albus agreed.

Albus sank back into the chair, as Aberforth made for the kitchen, from whence a series of bangs and crashes emerged, interspersed with the familliar sound of his brother muttering to himself.

A few minutes later, Aberforth thrust a steaming mug into Albus' hands. Albus gazed at it uncertainly, his eyes watering as the aroma of brandy and chocolate drifted upwards. He was almost inclined to refuse, but his brother was eyeing him expectantly, and after all one little drink couldn't do any harm.

"Quidditch must be the only thing you two ever argue about," Aberforth said gruffly.

"Minerva has no sense of proportion when it comes to Quidditch," Albus sighed, "I only said..."

"How many times do I have to tell you when Gryffindor lose, you're best off saying nothing? Drink up Albus!"

The hours had ticked by, the skies outside had darkened long ago, and Albus was feeling decidedly hazy. He'd had three hot chocolates, all liberally laced with brandy, followed by at least four fire whiskeys. "Minerva hates me," He sniffed, "She'll never forgive me, and quite right too. What am I going to do?"

"Win her back of course!" Aberforth proclaimed, as he waved his fist in the air drunkenly.

"But how?" Albus wailed.

"Women like presents, and i have just the thing, she'll love it. Pour yourself another drink while I fetch it."

While he waited for his brother to return, Albus poured himself a generous fire whiskey. He couldn't remember the last time he'd drunk so much, but he was quite sure that he was completely sober. The fire whiskey was like liquid warmth spreading through him, and by the time Aberforth returned he was half asleep.

"Here you are," Aberforth thrust something soft, furry and wriggling into Albus' arms.

Albus stared blearily down to see a small white goat nestled in his arms, soft grey eyes gazed up at him, and a gentle head nuzzled against him.

"Look how affectionate she is Aberforth, see how she snuggles against me," Albus seemed unaware of the sound of chewing, and the growing hole in his purple robes. "Minerva will love her. Just one little improvement," A flick of his wand and the goat turned bright pink. Albus peered quizzically at the goat, "Not quite what I intended but it'll do. I'm sure Minerva loves pink, and goats. Doesn't she Aberforth?"

"Everyone with an ounce of sense loves goats," Aberforth said firmly.

"Oh well, Minerva has lots of sense, so she's bound to love it" Albus rose, and made his way unsteadily to the door, only pausing to thank Aberforth.

Meanwhile Minerva had distracted herself with work. She had made liberal use of the special red ink she reserved for corrections and ascerbic comments, this had soothed her fury a little.

A calming cup of tea with a little fire whiskey, and the warmly flickering flames of the fire had almost banished her bad temper. She was now in the middle of a very delightful daydream about Gryfindor beating Slytherin, when she was rudely disturbed by the most horrendous noise from outside the room.

Minerva wrenched her door open furiously, to see a clearly drunk Albus serenading her, and cradling a vivid pink goat in his arms.

"Stop that dreadful caterwhauling at once! And What is That?" Minerva eyed the goat in disgust, green eyes flashing angrily.

"Ish for you Minnie..."

"Like hell it is!" The door slammed shut, narrowly missing Albus' toe. Albus swayed slightly as he stared forlornly at the resolutely shut door. Then he staggered down the corridor, still cradling the goat in his arms.

As the first light of dawn broke over Hogwarts, Harry walked along the passages. Still annoyed about the Quidditch he had risen unusually early, and slipped out of his domitory. Now he strode along the corridors, not really noticing where he went, untill an astonishing sight stopped him dead.

Strange sights were almost a routine occurance at Hogwarts, and Harry had learned to shrug most of them off, but this one had him gaping in astonishment. For there was his Headmaster asleep in a corner, cradling a bright pink goat in his arms, both of them snoring loudly. Harry stepped forward uncertainly, perhaps he should wake Dumbledore, but after all it was none of his business.

As Harry hovered there uncertainly, trying to decide whether he should wake Dumbledore or not, Minerva rounded the corner and headed towards them.

"Potter, what have you done to the Headmaster?" She asked indignantly.

"Me?! I didn't do anything, I just found him here," Harry was surprised to see Minerva's face soften momentarily as she gazed down at Dumbledore.

"Off you go Potter, surely you have something else to do." She said, without bothering to look round.

As a relieved Harry vanished round the corner, Minerva shot a disgusted look at the goat. "Hmmph! Back to your owner with you," A flick of her wand, and the goat vanished, leaving Albus sleeping gently, snow white beard cascading down his star bedangled robes.

"You old fool," Minerva said tenderly, as her lips brushed his slumbering face, "How many times do I have to warn you not to get drunk with Aberforth? And never present me with a pink goat again ever."

Author's notes

It feels like forever since I wrote anything, and indeed it is. A friend and I have been doing some writing challenges recently, and that made me realise how much I miss writing, and ADMM in particular. So, I'm back, and I intend to be writing and publishing things regularly from now on. :) I feel kind of rusty at this writing lark, but it's lovely to be writing regularly again. I have some other stories in the works. Thanks for reading. :)