Author's note: This is my first attempt at a MMAD story

Author's note: This is my first attempt at a MMAD story. If you strongly feel that this pairing is not probable or is disgusting or if it excites any other negative feelings within you, you will not like this story, so please do not bother with it. Also it gets rather dark and a little disturbing around ch 6 and onward. That being said, I really hope you enjoy it, and I hope that you will review and let me know what you like or dislike! Thanks for reading!

Disclaimer: I do not own anything to do with Harry Potter or any of the fabulous characters or events in any of the books or films and the only profit I receive is many blissful hours of enjoyment. Thank you JKR!

Waiting, Chapter 1

Three of them were gone. Three Hogwarts students at his mercy. They had not returned from today's visit from Hogsmeade, and there was only one explanation. Only one.

Collin Creavey, Zephaniah Smith, and Sarah Jamison. Two of her Gryffindors and a first year Hufflepuff. The greenish glow of the dark mark was slowly dissipating in the evening mist and breezes over Hogsmeade.

She could see it from the office window, where her pacing was quickly wearing a hole in the red and gold carpet upon which she trod.

She hated waiting. Her duties were done for the moment, and the idleness was driving her mind mad and causing her stomach to reel. Gods, she wished he were back. She had ordered the students to remain in their common rooms after dinner, and she had briefly addressed her Gryffindors and then she and Pomona had broken the news to the Hufflepuffs together. She had sent urgent letters to the families of the three missing children and now all that was left was the waiting.

Albus had left immediately for an emergency meeting with the school governors and the Minister, and then onto Grimmauld Place to discuss a course of action with the Order. She had been left behind to see to the children and any Hogwarts emergencies that might arise. She hated that she missed out on so many Order meetings, but Albus had made it clear that her number one function was the school and the safety of its students. And their safety was her priority. But that didn't stop her from feeling helplessly in the dark in these situations.

He would kill them: of that much she was certain. They were muggle-borns, and he would make an example. Open warfare had been declared.

Her heart was with these families. They had sent their children into a world in which they could not take part, a world they didn't and couldn't understand. And now their children were suffering as casualties of a war and a monster they knew nothing about.

So deep in thought was she that she jumped with a start when, with a little 'pop', Albus Dumbledore stepped out of her fireplace.

"I'm sorry, Minerva," he said, dusting off his purple and silver robes, "I did not mean to startle you."

As she looked at him, her heart sank lower, as the tears in his eyes confirmed her worst fears. "Oh Albus! It's true then, they are dead?"

"No, my dear. Not yet. But I am afraid they are lost," he said gently. Albus Dumbledore had seldom felt so old, and utterly defeated. He sat wearily down in one of the armchairs nearest the fire and conjured two cups of tea with a flick of his wand. Minerva silently took the proffered cup and held it between her icy, shaking hands. She sat slowly down in the chair facing him, and waited for him to begin.