Flames

Summary: Albus and Minerva have been happily married for many years. However, even the best of marriages take work, especially when friendly old girlfriends enter the picture and adventurous friends try to help.

Rating: M (for later chapters)

All done she sighed happily to herself as she put the finishing touches on the last Hogwarts letter to be delivered this summer. Minerva had been working incredibly hard, harder than usual, in order to get everything ready by the end of the week. The Quidditch schedules had been completed, the papers had been graded, owls had been sent with final grades for the year, and even the items accidentally left behind had been sent to their rightful owner. Now all that is left is to make sure Albus has finished his work and then we can decide on a time to leave for our vacation the day after tomorrow.

Albus sat in his office humming to himself as he tossed the various bits of mail he'd received that particular morning onto his desk. It had taken him nearly fifteen minutes to convince the ruddy owl to give him the parchments and then to actually leave his office. Albus chuckled at the memory of Fawkes squawking furiously at the insolent bird and how his feathers had ruffled as if he were in a true huff about the obnoxious visitor.

"There, there, old friend. He's gone to the Owlery and we must give him some credit. He did his job, though perhaps he was a bit overzealous. And you, you deserve a few treats for helping me get rid of him so quickly." Albus laughed as he watched the bird perk up at the mention of being rewarded for his valiant efforts. "Let's see, shall I give you three lemon drops or perhaps one of Minerva's ginger newts? I know how much you and she love those things, despite their lack of sweetness," he shuddered slightly. Holding out the items mentioned, one in each hand, Fawkes looked from one to the other and then pleadingly back to Albus. "Alright, you win. Three lemon drops and a ginger newt for my protector." Fawkes happily took the treats and bumped his head against Albus' hand as a sign of deep appreciation. "You are most welcome, Fawkes. Now let's see what was so important in this stack of mail."

Years ago, when Minerva and Albus were dating, he came home from a rather lengthy and boring meeting to find Minerva sitting at his desk working diligently. When he had asked what she was working on at such a late hour, she informed him that she was tired of seeing him so drained and she missed spending quiet evenings with him. So, while he was away she decided to attempt to organize his desk, particularly his mail, which seemed to consume the majority of his time.

"In this stack you have the Ministry missives, boring, dull, trifle little things which any buffoon could answer for you," she announced acerbically. "And in this stack, letters from parents or other individuals which would require a more personal touch but not pressing by any stretch of the imagination," she winked. "Finally, in this stack we have the letters which impose deadlines upon their responses. This is the stack I would focus on first." She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him soundly as she pushed his outer robe from his shoulders, letting it puddle on the floor.

"And this stack of letters?" he asked, pointing to a small bundle of notes in the very center of his desk. "Into which stack do these belong?" he managed to question while trailing his lips down the side of her neck.

"Oh, those…well, those are for you to decide. I do believe they are letters from your many women admirers who would love the opportunity to warm both you and your sheets," she quipped as her hand slipped inside his robe and her nails lightly scratched his chest.

"Ah, kindling for the fire then," he shot back.

"Not all of them. I have sent you at least two such letters just in the past week, and I know for a fact that they're included among the other owls offering pleasures of the flesh."

Albus head shot up from the particularly interesting spot just below her ear, and he raised one eyebrow as he looked down into her face. "Have I really been that distracted that I failed to notice a love letter from my one true love, my dear?"

She nodded her head and cupped his cheek. "You've been busy and I've missed you terribly. Hence, the reason for the organization of your desk. Maybe this will help you with your work, and then we can spend more time together in the evenings."

Fifteen years later, Albus was still using her ingenious system of organization, and he constantly checked his love letters pile with great enthusiasm, tossing all of them away except the ones from his beloved wife, Minerva. Those he kept in a special drawer of his desk, and they were read more frequently than probably even Minerva realized, especially on his more dreary days.

"Albus Dumbledore, are you there?" a raspy voice sounded through the floo network, breaking into Albus' thoughts. "I need to speak to you urgently." Albus recognized the voice as the Headmaster from Beauxbatons in France. They had been working together on a project and his esteemed colleague was due to present their proposal at the International Wizarding Conference in two days time.

"I'm here Francois. What can I do for you?" Albus knelt in front of his fireplace and he could easily see that his friend wasn't in the best of health.

"I hate to do this to you, but is there any way you could go to the conference in my place? It's short notice but I'm simply not feeling well. The mediwitches tell me I have contracted a case of Scrofungulusand I'm highly contagious. You're the only one I would trust to give an accurate representation of our work, and they need this information before they vote on anything this weekend."

A coughing spell gripped Francois and immediately Albus knew he had no other choice but to agree. It was clear that his friend was ill and their work was too important to pass along to just anyone. "Of course I will. I have a few loose ends to tie up here but send me an owl with the conference schedule. When were you supposed to present our work?"

Francois downed another round of healing potion then followed that by a shot of Ogdens Firewhisky. "That's the thing…I was to be the keynote speaker on Saturday, but then there is a ball, and I was supposed to make a presentation there as well on Sunday night. I'm afraid you'll need to arrive on Friday morning, and you won't return to your beloved Hogwarts until Monday. If there was any way…"

Albus held up his hand. "Think nothing of it. I know what it's like to be ill and still have duties to fulfill. I'm sure it won't be too bad and I will get to spend some time with friends I haven't seen in ages."

It wasn't until Albus began thinking things over in his mind that he realized how much trouble he was about to cause in the Dumbledore household. He had promised Minerva weeks ago that they would take this coming weekend for themselves, and in the span of five minutes, he had agreed to spend his entire weekend at a conference. It wasn't bad enough that he had already sacrificed so many nights without seeing her because of his work, and the occasional weekend, as well, for a sporadic trip to France to help his colleague with a particularly tricky facet of their project. Now, he was going to have to tell his enthusiastic wife that he was canceling their holiday for a conference, which he had sworn would not interfere with their travel plans.

The minute Minerva walked into their rooms, she could sense that something was amiss. Albus had her favorite meal prepared and a lovely table arranged on the balcony of their rooms. She could hear her favorite Mozart music softly in the background, as well as a bundle of flowers, no doubt freshly picked from the greenhouse, not to mention the chilled bottle of wine just begging to be consumed.

"Ah, I was about to come and get you for lunch, sweetheart." Albus' voice was soft and sweet, something which normally would send chills of delight coursing through her body. But today, there was more to this little luncheon surprise than met the eyes. "I thought we might enjoy a romantic lunch this afternoon."

Minerva slowly turned and her face was a blank. No longer was their any excitement in her eyes at the scene before her. Her lips formed a thin straight line, leaving no trace of the smile that had once curled upon them as she planned their vacation in her mind. Even the blush of her cheeks was something debatable. It could easily have been flushed from excitement or from anger. Either way, the air began to fill with anticipation and tension, even before she spoke.

"Out with it!" Her voice was stern but unnervingly calm.

Albus ran his hands up and down her arms as he tried to get her to smile. "Out with what, love? Can't a husband surprise his wife with a little afternoon romance?" Minerva's eyebrow rose higher than he had ever seen before, even higher than the time he had to explain why he had come home from his brother's bar in nothing but his underwear, his boots, and a ratty old nightshirt that no doubt had once belonged to Aberforth Dumbledore.

"We're not going away this weekend, are we?" she asked quietly. Her ability to read her husbands actions was sometimes uncanny, though it was most likely due to the fact that they had been together for so many years and that this scene was one with which she was intimately familiar. "Tell me, Albus, what pressing matter is going to keep us from our holiday this year?"

The sadness in both her eyes and her voice broke his heart into a million little pieces and he secretly cursed the Scrofungulus disease and the person who had so willingly shared it with Francois. "The International Wizarding Conference, my dear. Francois fire called a bit ago and he's dreadfully ill. He can't present the paper on our work, and he asked me to step in and do it for him. Normally, I would have told him I had other plans, but he was so sick, love, and this must be presented to our colleagues before they vote on issues next week."

She stepped back and nodded her head. Her husband was generous to a fault, even if he worked himself to death to prove it. "I see. And how long will you be gone?"

Albus had a hard time swallowing the lump in his throat. "Until Monday morning, I'm afraid. You see, there's the conference and then the…"

"I don't need to hear the schedule. I've been to these things before and I know…there are the lectures, the seminars, the training sessions, and of course the ball at the end so everyone can congratulate themselves on another job well done," she said sarcastically. "And to make matters even better, one can't bring a wife or husband. Oh, no…that would be far too big of a distraction. No, one must sacrifice their personal lives so that they may fully devote themselves to the tasks at hand and to ensure that everyone is given a chance to mingle or do a spot of social climbing and networking at this bloody ball!"

It took Albus nearly half an hour to calm Minerva and to coerce her to settle down and at least enjoy the lunch he had worked to prepare for them. Though she wasn't happy about the situation at all, part of her expected something to go wrong before they could get away.

In the early years of their marriage, Minerva had managed to brush aside the little delays in their plans, hoping to be an understanding wife and partner to him. She fully understood the demands their world placed on him and was even proud of him for being so willing to go the extra mile for friends, family, and even complete strangers.

However, as the years began to multiply, it became increasingly harder to sit back while the rest of the world took first place, or seemingly so, in his life. He had grown to expect her acceptance of their plight and it seemed to her that he no longer regretted the missed dinners, the romantic evenings away, the quiet strolls in the moonlight. And that was what hurt the most. It wasn't just once in a while that these things occurred. With each new week, month, year, she felt she saw less and less of him despite sharing a bed.

Lately too many things had been going wrong between them, and she couldn't help but feeling he was slowly slipping away, despite all her efforts to make him feel happy and loved. No matter what they had planned, work always seemed to interfere, and if it wasn't work it was the Ministry or someone else who needed time with her husband. They had more broken dinner dates, evenings out and vacations than she cared to count. She had even half heartedly joked that she might need to send him an owl requesting a private audience with His Majesty, earning her a look of disappointment and displeasure from her husband, though her point had been made.

The rest of the night had been rather chilly, even though Minerva had assured Albus she wasn't angry at him, merely disappointed. Even curling up in his arms that night, she didn't feel nearly as happy and carefree as she had before their lunch together. There was something unsettling her, making it hard to sleep so she simply rested in his arms until daybreak, when she could slip from the bed and make a fresh pot of hot tea and watch the sunrise over the mountains.

Thursday passed in a blur for both Albus and Minerva. He spent most of his time in his office working on his keynote speech, using portions of Francois' address as well as adding personal touches he hoped would enhance their ,the audience's, understanding and appreciation of their efforts. Minerva, on the other hand, busied herself in their rooms. When Albus finally joined her, she had already started packing his bags for his trip.

"Do you want the purple pajamas with the flying dragons or the red ones with the gray kittens playing with the balls of yarn?" Her voice was somewhat cold and indifferent, much the way her heart felt as she packed his clothes for his trip. She had even considered tucking a little love note inside his bag, but had dismissed the idea as being childish and silly. After all, she was no longer a love-struck teenager, and she had to face the facts. She had married a very prominent and well-respected wizard and there was no denying that his opinions carried a lot of weight.

"How can you ask such a question?" he asked as he placed a kiss to the top of her head. "I want the red ones because they will remind me of you while I'm away. You know how much I hate sleeping without you by my side."

"Right, the red ones it is, then," she answered casually, not taking the bait he was dangling before her like a carrot. She had to give him credit for being so persistent since yesterday. He had been trying hard to make amends and to show her that he would miss her incredibly.

Socks, underwear, boots and robes all joined the pajamas in his bag. Albus tried to be helpful but found himself only getting in the way so he sat down on the end of the bed and simply watched. One by one, items he would need packed themselves into his piece of luggage as Minerva continued to flick her wand at first one article of clothing and then another.

"Looks like you have everything under control in here, then, my dear. How about I go and make us some tea? I'll let you know when it's ready, and we can sit outside and soak up some of the warm sunshine and the cool breeze."

Minerva nodded her head as she made her way over to the wardrobe, never seeing Albus looking quite melancholy and lonely. Hmm, dress robes…he'll need a nice set since he'll no doubt be the center of attention. He always is at these function, she grumbled. Minerva instinctively reached for his royal blue robes with the silver trim and the tiny stars and moons lightly enhancing the silky material. They had always been her favorite out of all his robes and her heart seemed to stop every time he wore them. The way his eyes sparkled and seemed to be much brighter every time he wore them made her weak in the knees. On more than one occasion, these same robes had been left crumpled unceremoniously on the floor after a night of dancing, simply because she couldn't wait for him to remove them properly before her passion for him overtook them both. Definitely not the blue ones then, she thought to herself. These maroon ones with the gold edging will be just fine. He wore these to his cousin's wedding and received several compliments. No need in going all out for this evening since it's supposed to be more business-oriented anyway. With the maroon robes carefully packed in his case, Minerva went to see about tea.

When she stepped into the room, Minerva found Albus sitting in his favorite chair reading an owl. Finding nothing odd about the situation, she began to pour their tea and put a few biscuits on his plate. "Anything interesting or more mundane things for you to deal with before you leave?"

Albus looked up, unsure of how to answer her question. This was sure to invite another discussion and most likely another long night, but the truth was always better when confronted head on, as he was about to do now. Handing her the letter, he sat back and waited for Minerva's response.

My Dear Albus,

I was delighted to hear that you are going to be at the conference this weekend and even more pleasantly surprised to learn that my room is directly across from yours at the hotel. Your presence will no doubt make this boring affair much more enjoyable than I originally thought.

I do hope you won't think this too forward of me but I would love the chance to treat you to dinner Saturday night. I have missed seeing you at several of these last few meetings and spending the evening in your company would make this entire weekend worth all the boring lectures we're bound to endure.

I will leave a message for you at the hotel lobby and we can arrange a time to meet, if you're agreeable to having dinner with an old friend.

As always,

Aurelia

Minerva's face blanched then her cheeks began to burn as the color returned in full force. It was clear to see she was struggling with her emotions, both in her head and in her heart, as she read the note not once but twice, making sure to devour every single syllable. "Well at least you won't be bored to tears, after all, nor will you be lacking for a suitable dinner companion." Her words were meant to be neutral in nature, but there was an underlying hint of acid, unease and sarcasm all rolled into one.

"I don't have to accept her invitation, Min. I'm sure she was merely trying to be polite, and we were, after all, old friends and…"

Minerva laughed softly. "That's one way of putting it. I wouldn't call the woman you almost married an old friend…but I trust you. Do what you want. I need to go and finish your packing. I will be sure to pack your favorite cologne as well," she shot back as her slim figure vanished from his sight, leaving him alone once more with an empty chair and a pot of tea for two.

A/N: Thanks for taking time to read the story. We sincerely hope you enjoyed chapter one and will take a moment or two to let us know your thoughts.