14 February 1959

"Put me down!" Minerva commanded her new husband, laughing in spite of herself.

"Certainly not; we're going to do this properly," Albus replied, "and it's traditional for the groom to carry his bride over the threshold."

"Somebody will see us!"

He put her down, drew his wand, waved it in an arc, and replaced it in his pocket. "There, Madam Professor. I've cast a Disillusionment Charm. Your reputation is safe." With that, he scooped her up in his arms again, gave the password to his quarters, and carried her inside.

"All right, now you've done the thing properly. You can put me down."

He let her down, but didn't let her go. She pulled his head down to her and kissed him deeply.

They stood snogging for a few minutes, her hands on his chest, while his crept down to rest on her buttocks, pulling her close up against him.

She rubbed herself against his erection, moaning into his mouth.

"Mmm. As lovely as you are in that dress, I must say I can't wait to get you out of it," he said, drawing her across the floor.

"My sentiments, exactly, darling," she said as they walked into his bedroom. "I thought we'd never get out of that register office. Why I let you talk me into getting married on St Valentine's Day along with every other magical couple in Britain, I'll never know."

"It was a bit crowded," he admitted. "But Reggie tells me it's even worse on Samhain. And I thought we found some rather pleasant ways to pass the time," he added.

"Thanks to your prowess with Disillusionment Charms," she said with a grin. "The look on Reggie the Registrar's face when we popped out in front of his desk was priceless. Tell me, was he surprised you were getting married at all, or was it whom you were marrying that was such a shock?"

"Both, I expect," he said, kissing her neck.

She unzipped her dress and let it fall to the floor, and there was no more talk for a time.

A while later, when they were lying sleepily in one another's arms in the middle of the enormous four-poster bed that dominated the Headmaster's bedroom, Albus said, "I almost forgot to tell you: Filius has arranged a little soirée in our honour this evening after curfew."

"Oh, no," she sighed.

"He means well, my love."

"Oh, I know he does, and he's very dear; I shouldn't resent it. But I was sort of hoping to have you to myself for the evening."

"And so you shall," he said, moving his hand to circle her breast. "We'll put in the necessary appearance then take an early leave. I'm sure none of the staff will begrudge us that," he said, moving his mouth to where his hand had been moments before.

/***/

"To Minerva and Albus," Filius said, raising his glass, prompting the rest of the small group gathered in the staff room to do the same.

"Thank you all," said Albus, his arm around Minerva's shoulders. "And thanks especially for minding the store to allow us the day off."

"Yes, and don't you two dare show up for breakfast tomorrow, either," said Poppy, with an annoying wink.

"And now," said Filius, "I believe it's customary to allow the bride and groom the first dance of the evening." He pointed his wand at a strange-looking contraption with what looked for all the world like an Erumpment horn attached at the top, and music began to fill the air.

It seems we've stood and talked like this before,
We looked at each other in the same way then,
But I can't remember where or when.

As they danced, Minerva forgot the embarrassment and annoyance all the attention had caused. She allowed herself to get lost in the pleasant sensation of moving about the floor in his arms.

When the song ended, however, her embarrassment returned twofold when the couple was assailed with cries of "kiss her!" which Albus promptly did, and soundly. She subsequently endured dances with Horace Slughorn, Silvanus Kettleburn, Apollyon Pringle, Hagrid, and even Cuthbert Binns (a discomfiting experience, if ever there was one), before Albus stepped in.

"I think that's enough, gentlemen. You're going to tire my bride out before I even get a chance to be alone with her," he said, prompting Minerva to give him the kind of look that generally sent her students running for shelter.

When they had gotten back to his quarters, Minerva said, "Well that was a painful, if instructive lesson on just how far we haven't come in reconciling our traditions with modern ideas about marriage and partnership."

Albus looked at her with surprise and asked, "How so?"

"It's just that I felt rather like a prize Jobberknoll, being passed from hand to hand before finally being claimed by my husband."

"I'm sorry, my love, if I made you feel like a bit of chattel. It wasn't intentional."

"I know, darling," she said, crossing to him and putting her arms around his neck. "It wasn't that bad; you know how I get when people fuss over me. And it was nice to dance with you."

"But I am sorry."

"You are forgiven," she said, kissing his mouth quickly.

He moved her backwards towards the bed, and she said, "Just don't do it again."

"No, Professor," he murmured, kneeling and pressing his lips to her belly. "Never again."

~FIN~