Post by MinnieQuill on Jan 13, 2007 4:37:52 GMT -5
Resolution
Summary: - She never looked so beautiful as when she stood by the lake...and turned away from him.
The world was awash with grey. The overhanging clouds bled into the fog that crept over the lake. An eerie silence had settled over the Hogwarts grounds; not broken by the solitary figure who stood as though carved from ice, her attention focussed on the glassy body of water before her. Her black hair, for once not restrained in a tight bun, whipped across her face as a faint breeze began to blow. Still she did not move, not even when the first flakes of snow began to fall.
The wind blew stronger and she folded her arms across her chest, and pulled up the silver fur-lined hood of her midnight blue cloak. Almost immediately she reassumed her former position, seemingly not caring that snow fell on her shoulders. It was as if she was waiting for someone, yet knew they would never come back. Her shoulders hunched slightly, and she blinked furiously. The grey eyes were covered in a light sheen of tears that had yet to fall.
Albus Dumbledore watched her from where he leant against an ancient oak, and despite the horrific circumstances, a smile played on his lips as he remembered a time, over 50 years ago, when she had stood in precisely the same spot.
It was her seventh year, and he was Deputy Headmaster. A young woman of considerable intellect, she challenged him as others had not for years, and the two built a strong relationship based on a common interest in Transfiguration. It was December 24, the day before Christmas, when she received an owl bearing a seemingly innocuous letter. Still laughing with her friends over breakfast she slit the envelope with a tap of her wand and began to read.
Her face fell, and her jaw tightened as she neared the end of the parchment. She glanced up briefly and his heart lurched as he saw the look of sheer raw pain in her otherwise stolid visage. A muttered excuse later and she ran from the Hall, disappearing around a corner in a swirl of midnight blue. He rose immediately to follow, and his own pace increased as he followed the trail of footprints that led him to the edge of the lake.
There she stood, like a vision, the snow white ground the same colour as her skin, her ebony hair contrasting sharply with the sheer white that surrounded her. He had stopped in his tracks, and simply stared at her, suddenly aware that she was beautiful. The midnight blue of her robes framed her face as she looked skyward.
“I assure you, Professor. I am perfectly fine.”
He fell in love with her at that moment, there in the snow, and knew that the black-haired sylph in front of him held his heart in her two delicate hands.
“Miss McGonagall,” he said softly, placing a soft hand on her arm. “It’s cold out here. Please come back inside.”
She turned and looked up at him. Her grey eyes were full of extreme sadness and it was all he could do not to enfold her in the circle of his arms.
“Of course, Professor,” she whispered, not drawing back from his gaze.
He released his hold on her arm, and she turned and walked away from him. His eyes followed her retreat back into the castle, memorising the way her hair fell across her face, the way her hips swayed, every aspect engraved on his mind until he could close his eyes and picture her in his mind.
Albus shook his head slightly, dispelling the memory and focussed on the woman before him. She was still slim, her hair was still black, and her robes looked to be the same as she had worn when he first fell in love with her. A dark shade of blue, they almost appeared black, they served to accentuate the eyes too often hidden behind square-rimmed spectacles. The eyes that held every emotion her body would not allow her to express.
He pushed himself from the oak tree and moved closer toward her. His footsteps were light, and he paused behind her in time to hear his name spoken.
“Albus.”
The two syllables, spoken in a soft Scottish brogue, sent a thrill of happiness through him, and he walked the remaining two steps and placed his hands on her shoulders. She flinched and turned sharply, her eyes widening as she looked at him. Her surprise melted to be replaced by resignation.
“You’re dead,” she said softly.
He smiled slightly and took her hands within mine. “No, my darling. I’m right here.”
She shook her head ruefully. “I’m going mad.”
He pressed his lips against her knuckles, savouring the touch of her soft skin against his lips. “I’m right here.”
She shook her head again, and her hood fell off and her hair spilled out, cascading down her back in a mass of waves. “Albus…” she said again.
Her smiled slightly and brought her hand up and placed it against his face. “I’m here, Minerva.”
Her pupils narrowed and he staggered back in surprise as she slapped him across the face. His cheek stung and he gripped her wrist as she raised her hand for another blow.
“You lied to me,” she hissed furiously, “I thought you were dead. We all did.”
She struggled against him, but he was stronger and soon she gave up and fixed him with a sharp glare.
“Let me go, Albus,” she said harshly.
He shook his head and released her wrist. Quick as a flash she slapped him again, her body trembling with fury. He touched his hand to his aching cheek as her bottom lip trembled alarmingly.
“One year,” she whispered. “One year I thought you were dead.”
Tears began to spill down her cheeks and he pulled her toward him. Their bodies melded together perfectly and he rocked her gently as she cried into his shoulder. Her tears eventually abated and she looked up at him again. He reached upward and wiped her tears away with his thumb.
“I’m here, my darling.”
He leant down and brushed his lips against hers, desperate to alleviate her sadness. She hesitated for a brief moment, but soon returned the kiss with equal intensity as she wrapped her arms around her neck until the world was theirs and nothing else existed. Eventually she pulled back and they stood silently, not daring to break eye contact. Their fingers were entwined together and she squeezed his gently.
“I’m not dreaming this,” she whispered hoarsely. “You are here?”
He pulled back from her and kissed her lightly on the forehead. “Yes, my darling, and I won’t leave you again.”
A smile crossed over her face, and he saw with great clarity, the same girl he had fallen in love with so many years ago. He wrapped his arm around her waist and drew her close to him as they walked back to the castle together. Her head rested his chest as they walked, and he kissed the top of her hair lightly.
“You are my life, Minerva,” he whispered.
She stopped moving, and surprised he also drew to a halt. Her hand reached upward, and brushed against his face. Her fingers danced across his cheeks, along his nose, and to his lips where they lingered. She smiled briefly as she stood on her toes and kissed him again, slowly as if scared he might vanish at any moment.
She drew back, and he opened his mouth to speak three simple words. A finger to his lips prevented this and he furrowed his brow.
“I know, Albus,” she whispered softly. “I do too.”
She turned and walked away from him, leaving him alone in the snow. He watched her retreat, and again he thought back to a time over 50 years ago. Her hair fell across her face as it did then, and her hips swayed the same way. It could have been déjà vu were it not for one thing.
This time. This time he ran after her.
Author’s note: - This is dedicated to Rosanna. It was meant to be fluffier but…I just can’t do it! Hope you enjoyed. Please review. Minniequill
Thankyou for writing it.
