Title:  In Sickness…

By: tayryn

Rating:  FRT

Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns them.  I don’t.  Simple as that really.

Notes:  answer to the 43rd challenge…

Summary:  all women know how men are when they’re sick…






There was a moment of silence.




Minerva sighed, and with a whispered, “Lumos…” stepped deeper into Albus’ rooms.  She came to an abrupt halt at the state of the lounge.  Albus was not a neat man at the best of times (‘Typical male,’ Minerva thought.).  He had a soft spot for knick-knacks, books and all manner of things that simply took up space and gave his rooms a very cluttered look. 


Cluttered was normal.


What Minerva was looking at… was not.


Books lay scattered everywhere.  Some were open.  Some were not.


Empty dishes were piled up on his desk, some with most of the food left in them.


Minerva frowned.  “Dobby!”


A second later, the small gray house elf popped in before her.


“How can Dobby serve the most beautiful witch to have ever graced the planet?”


Minerva rolled her eyes.  Dobby had been listening to Albus drone on again.


“Dobby… why is the headmaster’s room such a mess?”


“The great Dumbledore is sick, oh fine feline-one…”


“Albus is sick?”  There was genuine concern in Minerva’s voice.  She hadn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary with her dearest friend and lover.  He’d been fine at breakfast that morning.  ‘And before breakfast too,’ she thought with a satisfied smile.


“Oh yes, Scottish sex-goddess.  The supreme mugwump is very ill.  It hurt Dobby’s feelings to see the greatest wizard ever so so sick…”


Minerva’s eyebrows, already raised at the sex-goddess remark, rose higher as the elf continued.


“He does not look his usual greatness.  Dobby is very concerned,” he said then reached out to take Minerva’s hand.  “Please… oh please, courageous celtic cutey… please check up on the defeater of the nasty Grindelwald…”


“Of course,” Minerva nodded then looked around.  “You will tell the other elves to come clean this up,” she gestured at the messy room, “will you not?”


“I will, oh terrific tartan tabby… brave brave witch to face the ailing, antagonistic academic…”


“Enough, Dobby…” Minerva shook her head and made her way across the messy floor towards Albus’ bedroom.  She knocked softly as she called out quietly, “Albus?”


A low groan answered her.


She pushed open the door and peered into the dark room.  “Albus… it’s Minerva.”


Another groan met her ears but this one sounded suspiciously like her name.


Minerva crept into the room, her keen eyesight allowing her to navigate her way around the clutter on the floor to the bed.  She sat on the edge of the bed and reached out a hand to stroke his white hair; only his blue eyes were visible from the edge of the blankets.  “My love… what’s wrong?”


Idonfeedood…” Albus mumbled.


“Oh, my poor headmaster…”


“Don tease…” he mumbled again.  “…m tuffed up and can breade…”


“Well it would help if you’d pull the blankets away from your face,” Minerva pointed out.


A few fingers poked out near Albus’ face, and he pulled the blankets away.


“There, now you should be able to breathe better,” Minerva told him.  “So… what is wrong with you?”


“I’m stuffed up… I can’t breathe… my head hurts… I’ve got a fever… I’m coughing…” at that, Albus began to softly hack.  “And I feel just plain awful.”


Minerva laid her hand on Albus’ cheek then slid it to his forehead.  “You do feel a little warm… but that could simply be from all the blankets you have piled up on top of you,” she said.  “Do you have every quilt you own on your bed?”


“All except the one you stole,” Albus told her with a weak smile.  “But for your information, I happen to have a fever.”


“Mmm…” Minerva pulled out her wand and muttered a quick charm.  A soft light spread forth from her wand and enveloped Albus.  A few moments later she returned her wand to her pocket and gave Albus an exasperated look.  “Your temperature is only one degree above normal.”


“See!  I have a fever.”  Albus said as he pulled his blankets tighter around him.


“By only one degree, Albus.”  Minerva pointed out.  Fawkes has been sicker than you are right now,” she said then stood.  “Now… get your greatest wizard’s arse out of that bed this instance.”


“Minerva… I’m sick.  I feel too weak to get out of bed,” Albus intoned in a whiney voice.


“Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore!”  Minerva’s voice was low as she reached into her pocket for her wand once more.  With a quick flick of her wrist, each and every quilt covering Albus flew off the bed; folding themselves up and piling neatly on the chair on the far side of the room.  She bit back the smile at the sight of a naked Albus curled up in the fetal position on his bed.  “Now… get up.”


“…Min…” Albus began, still curled up.


“Albus!  Up!  Now!”  Minerva repeated.  “Merlin… you’re worse than a child.  Stop whining, get out of bed, and get in the shower.  A shower will help.”






Albus groaned as he slowly stretched out then rolled onto his back.  A sudden smile flashed across his face.  “It appears that I am already up!”  He told her.  “Would you like me to take your temperature to make sure you’re not ill too?”  Albus glanced back and forth between Minerva and his more than obvious arousal.  “After all… as headmaster, it is my job to look after my staff.”


“I… Albus!  Get…” Minerva pointed to the bathroom, her eyes flashing.  “For Merlin’s sake… even complaining that you’re sick, you’re as randy as a goat…”


“What can I say?”  Albus said as he slowly climbed out of bed.  “You have that affect on me.”


Minerva rolled her eyes and merely waved her hand in the direction of the loo.  She closed her eyes as he chuckled and walked into the lavatory.  At the sound of running water, Minerva opened her eyes.  She shook her head even as she smiled.


Albus was a typical male when sick… nothing more than a big baby…


“But I love him,” Minerva said quietly then glanced over at the bathroom when she heard a faint cough.  “In sickness and in health…”


With another shake of her head, Minerva slowly began to walk towards the bathroom, knowing that if she didn’t drag his wizened old arse down to see Poppy, this minor cough would grow into a full-blown cold. 


“And then he will be even more whiney and difficult to handle,” Minerva said to herself as she disappeared into the small room.


A little gray head peaked around the door into the bedroom.  Dobby smiled a wide smile.  He knew that the marvelous McGonagall would be able to help. 


She was, after all, a woman.


And even Dobby, although male himself, knew that the mighty wizard would not be able to make it through the next few days without the help and care of his beloved mate.


“Albus!”  A soft giggle drifted out of the bathroom.  “Albus… I thought you were sick?!”


“I’m feeling much better now…” Albus’ voice sounded.  “All thanks to my incredible Scottish sex-goddess…”


“Albus… about that…”


Dobby’s eyes widened.




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