Personal Demons

This wasn't the first time it had happened. No, it was far from the first time. It had almost become something of a tradition.

Albus had been at Hogwarts for a very long time and seen it happen many times. The circumstances were always slightly different, but countless were the number of young ladies who had found themselves in a predicament similar to Miss Patil's. Nightly patrols through the grounds and gardens, wards to prevent boys from entering the girl's dormitories, even sealing the Astronomy Tower from use except during classes did nothing to deter young love, or even young lust. It was uncommon to have more than a year or two go by without the discovery by Madam Pomfrey that the flu-like symptoms exhibited by one of the girls had nothing whatsoever to do with the flu.

Though the potential consequences of the actions required for such an occurrence were well known, the news always seemed to come across as a revelation. Shock, denial, anger, and tears were all common and sometimes concurrent responses. And once the parents became involved, both sets when discernable, well shock, denial, anger and tears were again common responses. Insults and accusations were often tossed back and forth between the parents, with a more than healthy portion being directed at him as the Headmaster of the school. Still none of that changed the reality of the situation and after a time the inevitable had to be dealt with. More often than not, tempers and the situation were diffused with a hastily arranged wedding.

Other times, generally when not true love, but simply lust had earlier ruled the day, the young lady in question would sometimes refuse to name the other responsible party for fear of that very fate.

Their society was still in many ways an old fashion one. A child out of wedlock was seen by certain people as a blemish not only on the honor of the young lady in question, but the line that produced the girl. To some of the more established families- and Hogwarts as the most prestigious Wizarding school in all of Europe certainly had more than its share of the older families- family honor was everything. As such, some of those families if unsuccessful in pressuring the girl to reveal the identity of the child's father early enough in their pregnancy, often redoubled their efforts into pressuring the girl to not keep the child. Given the drastic lifestyle change presented by the idea of caring for an infant as opposed to her former carefree school days, many a girl was more than happy to agree – at least while everything was still in abstract.

A child unwanted...a couple unable, but quite desperate to have a child…when the idea had first come to him, it has seemed so perfect, so simple. If only it had been.

As adamant as people were in the beginning…when that baby became a reality, almost invariably closed minds became a bit more open. As had happened with Mr. Patil, the sight of that new life could warm all but the coldest of hearts. And even those too hardened for that managed a more calculated change of mind. Their kind were so few now. Not but a dying breed. Wizarding blood had a value that went beyond sentiment. It was far too precious to simply be given away.

Slipping into the house that was far too big for just two people and without any effort never looked anything less than neat and tidy, Albus was somewhat surprised to not find Minerva waiting for him. He hadn't told her about Miss Patil's condition, nor had he mentioned where he was going that morning, but he had no illusions that he had been successful in keeping the information from her.

After making his way up the staircase, on his way to the bedroom he shared with his wife of twenty years, Albus passed the closed door of Minerva's study. What he had told Miss Patil earlier hadn't been entirely true; there was no nursery ready and waiting.

There had been one once. Some fifteen years earlier, in preparation for the first disappointment of a family changing their mind at the last minute, Minerva had taken the care to decorate and refurnish one of the spare bedrooms. She had replaced the guest bed with a crib and changing table. She had added both a rocking chair and a rocking horse. A chest of drawers filled with an assortment of the tiniest clothing imaginable had also been in the room. Little baby ducks had adorned all four walls and though there was no rain, they were charmed to hold umbrellas and with their webbed feet they made the most impressive splashes in the puddles.

A few years ago, a few days after yet another disappointment, he had come home to discover it all gone. As Minerva had evenly explained to him, there was no point in keeping a room that wasn't ever going to be put to use. So in place of the nursery, they now had separate studies.

Yet Minerva could never be found in hers; she still used the one that they had always shared.

So no, there really wasn't a nursery now, but if things had worked out differently today, he found it incredibly unlikely that Minerva would have offered any opposition to the loss of her study.

Slipping into their bedroom, he found her on the ottoman. It was evening now, but still quite early. It was unusual to find her resting. Noticing the hot water bottle she held to her abdomen, Albus realized the problem; she must have begun her monthly menstruation today. Uncomfortable cramps, mild compared to those today experienced by Miss Patil, always accompanied the onset of her menstruation.

Her pain was to him a monthly reminder that it was him, and him alone, causing all of their problems. It was not until they had already been married five years - during two of which, while they had not necessarily been trying to conceive, they hadn't been making any efforts to prevent it - that he had come to know that an illness from his youth had left him unable to father children.

Minerva's eyes were closed and he thought her asleep. He caressed her cheek with his hand, but not wanting to wake her, kept his touch light. "I'm sorry, Minerva." Again he whispered. "I'm so sorry for everything."

His belief that she was asleep proved incorrect.

"I wish you wouldn't keep doing this, Albus. It's just one disappointment after another, after another. Can't you be happy with the way we are?"

"No."

The truth was that he couldn't. He knew she wanted a child, he wanted more than anything else in the world to give her that child, and yet he couldn't. Her next question, it was as if she were the legilmens, not him.

"Do you think it makes me love you any less, Albus?" She spoke with such conviction. "It doesn't! Would you love me any less if it was my body that was the one failing to cooperate? We are happy together!" After a moment of silence, she asked less certainly. "Aren't we?"

No, if the fault in their inability to conceive had rested with her, he could never love her any less. But that was a completely different situation. The fault wasn't hers, it was his and his alone.

"Minerva, you know that I love you and I would do anything to make you happy."

"Then stop this foolishness, Albus. I don't want either of us to keep getting our hopes up trying to adopt when we both know it will never happen. Let's just be content with each other. We do have children. All of the children of Hogwarts, they are our children. Let that be enough."

Minerva was sitting up now. Albus sat beside her, taking her hands in his. Stroking his thumbs over the back of her hands, he remained silent, trying to find the best way to phrase his next suggestion.

"Minerva, I love you and I want you to have everything that you have ever wanted, even if I cannot be the one to give it to you."

Seeing her confused expression, Albus rephrased his suggestion.

"Minerva, you and I cannot have children, but that doesn't mean that you can't."

He could see the alarm rising in her expression. "Albus, we've gone through this before; I don't want a divorce."

Albus shook his head. "No, that isn't what I was trying to suggest."

After another pause, he tried again. "I spoke to my brother, Aberforth, today...he would be willing to help us."

"Albus, you aren't making any sense!" He had to admit, she looked quite perplexed. "Help us what?"

"Help us…to have a child."

The confusion left and a look beyond horrified overtook her face. "You cannot possibly be suggesting what I think you are suggesting!"

"Minerva, just think about it. Aberforth and I, we have the same hair and eye color, the same countenance. Only the three of us would ever need know. The child would still be a Dumbledore, he or she –"

Growing quite angry, she extricated her hand from his. "That is all a wonderful plan, except for one small flaw. I am not some barnyard animal –"

"Minerva, really, that only happened that one time. I don't know why the papers made such a fuss about –" As she kept talking, he realized that was not what she was referring to, and he trailed off.

"-that you can whore out to your brother!"

"That was incredibly inconsiderate of me, I apologize."

At his last words, her anger ebbed briefly, but with his next words, it returned tenfold. "You could take a lover. Surely there is someone that you can think of, someone you would be attracted to -"

It was only when one of the hands she had so recently extricated from his own rose and slapped him across the face, that he realized how very crass his words had been.

"Do you really think so little of our marriage vows? That you think that I could ever do something like that?"

As her anger turned to tears, he enveloped her in his arms. He wanted to tell her it wouldn't really be breaking their vows because he would know about it, he was the one asking her to do it. But, for once, he had sense enough not to speak his mind.

"I'm sorry, Minerva. Forgive me, I shouldn't have asked that of you."

With tears not just in her eyes, she beseeched him. "Can't you be happy with just the two of us?"

No, he couldn't, because he knew she wasn't really happy with just the two of them. But of course that wasn't what he said to her as he held her. "I am happy with you, Minerva. I am."