Post by nerva on Nov 2, 2006 11:08:57 GMT -5
Author's Notes:
For some time I have been planning to write about some tragic events in the life of Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall. And more importantly how they cope with them.
The stories about the aftermath of these events.
But you are not told about the crux - you need to think about it. There are some hints, more or less they are helpful.
Rating:12+
“The winner takes it all, someone said to me,” Minerva contemplated while sipping her tea. She was sitting across Albus, like always – her demeanour like reverie, a faraway look on her face. She was sad – anyone could tell, surely Albus was not an exception of realizing what had been happening in her soul for days.
He was observing her, very carefully, never disturbing her desired peace. He had no intention to draw suspicion.
It happened always like this. He was studying her features silently, but intently, perhaps lovingly, how only a friend could do so. No, soul-mate would be a too strong expression. They were too contradictory, the counterpoint of each other. Two half parts finally meeting to achieve something whole.
“Oh, yes, I have heard something like that,” he chuckled softly. “And who is the winner in our case, Minerva,” he asked more seriously, painfully and barely audible, as if he had dreaded to hear her answer. For a moment Minerva looked at him with pained eyes, when their eyes met she dropped her head, resting on the back of her armchair. The cup started shaking slightly in her hand. Albus leaned forward and took the cup, her hand never showed any kind of resistance.
“I don't believe there is anyone,” she was choking and shaking in her whole body. Albus could not fight against the need of comforting her, he stood and pulled her into his arms.
“Hush, it will be alright. Everything will be all right,” he whispered into her hair, gently stroking her back.
“No, it will not. And you know that very well,” she muffled into his chest. Then suddenly she stepped aside and sat back onto the sofa. Back straight, she leaned over and took her tea again. Albus was wondering intently about what could be around her mind this time. She seemed to be more resolved than usual as she was sipping her tea, more broken than it could have been associated to her in recent times.
They were sitting silently for minutes. Then quite suddenly Minerva put down her cup and with obvious pain in her eyes addressed Albus. ”How can life be so cruel?”
“If only I could answer that, Minerva, if only,” he said heavily. “But I can assure you that even amidst cruelties one can find the peace and joy, though sometimes it needed to be sought with greater effort.” He sighed deeply and grasped her free hand gently. “Our courage could only be revealed by the risk we think to be worth and hence we dare to have in our life in order to achieve the happiness we deserve. In this sense you are the bravest being I have ever met in my life.” Albus stood and placed himself next to her – never letting go of her hand. He observed with much amusement as Minerva first looked at him with eyes bigger than saucer pan then with the hint of a slight flush at the nape of her neck she just looked away. But Albus could see the bourgeoning smile which had threatened to cover her face for the first time of a long time. It calmed his harassed nerves. She might never admit but Minerva loved being complimented – it was just plain good to have something which was constant in his life.
“We both are brave. Don’t forget yourself,” whispered Minerva into the silent night. Albus nodded.
“I always appreciate your most valuable appraisal, and willingly let myself be judged by you. But this time I must refuse it. I don’t want to belittle your share of burden by allowing myself to be raised next to you.” He squeezed her hand.
Minerva finally turned towards him – a curious expression played on her face. She lifted her hand and gently stroked his cheek.
“Don’t be so rough on yourself, good sir. Just like always you tend to forget that I prefer keeping you close to me. Why were you not with me? Why did you avoid me?” He felt her hand tremble while never ending the gentle movements on his face.
“I was afraid,” he told honestly. “I was afraid that my presence could repulse you.” He took her hand and kissed her palm.
“But your presence would have been support had you been there. And reassurance of your faith in me.”
“Ah, but Minerva, my faith is infinite when it comes to you. Without this trust I would have never graced you.” He grasped both of her hands in his. For a moment there was silence again. He gained advantage on it by studying her delicate hands for the millions of time. And for the millions of time he wondered how it could be so gentle but firm when she needed to guide him. He was snapped out of his mood quite fervently.
“But I failed.” Her gaze became cold as if daring him to oppose her. “Probably, it's better this way. I have never meant to be...” Albus interrupted her quite harshly. Sometimes the greats could have clouded judgment, the wise could have moments of insanity.
“Don't ever think that about yourself.”
“But will you ask me again? Would you?” Albus felt his soul burst out upon having heard the question he had dreaded never to hear. He leaned closer to her and brushed his lips against her soft cheek.
“Let this be your answer for now.”
“What if it’s not enough?”
“It must be.” He stood and helped Minerva up.
“And what if I wanted to gamble more?” She stepped closer, eyes intent, face flushed.
Albus let go of her hands.
“Good night, Professor McGonagall.”
She clearly was puzzled for a moment, then she smiled.
“Good night, Professor Dumbledore.”
Albus stared wistfully as she turned and with a very feminine sway of her hips crossed the room. After a short moment he followed her, a knowing smile around his mouth.
She had said good night to Professor Dumbledore.
The End
For some time I have been planning to write about some tragic events in the life of Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall. And more importantly how they cope with them.
The stories about the aftermath of these events.
But you are not told about the crux - you need to think about it. There are some hints, more or less they are helpful.
Rating:12+
- Excerpts -
The tragic romance
The tragic romance
‘Afterwee’
“The winner takes it all, someone said to me,” Minerva contemplated while sipping her tea. She was sitting across Albus, like always – her demeanour like reverie, a faraway look on her face. She was sad – anyone could tell, surely Albus was not an exception of realizing what had been happening in her soul for days.
He was observing her, very carefully, never disturbing her desired peace. He had no intention to draw suspicion.
It happened always like this. He was studying her features silently, but intently, perhaps lovingly, how only a friend could do so. No, soul-mate would be a too strong expression. They were too contradictory, the counterpoint of each other. Two half parts finally meeting to achieve something whole.
“Oh, yes, I have heard something like that,” he chuckled softly. “And who is the winner in our case, Minerva,” he asked more seriously, painfully and barely audible, as if he had dreaded to hear her answer. For a moment Minerva looked at him with pained eyes, when their eyes met she dropped her head, resting on the back of her armchair. The cup started shaking slightly in her hand. Albus leaned forward and took the cup, her hand never showed any kind of resistance.
“I don't believe there is anyone,” she was choking and shaking in her whole body. Albus could not fight against the need of comforting her, he stood and pulled her into his arms.
“Hush, it will be alright. Everything will be all right,” he whispered into her hair, gently stroking her back.
“No, it will not. And you know that very well,” she muffled into his chest. Then suddenly she stepped aside and sat back onto the sofa. Back straight, she leaned over and took her tea again. Albus was wondering intently about what could be around her mind this time. She seemed to be more resolved than usual as she was sipping her tea, more broken than it could have been associated to her in recent times.
They were sitting silently for minutes. Then quite suddenly Minerva put down her cup and with obvious pain in her eyes addressed Albus. ”How can life be so cruel?”
“If only I could answer that, Minerva, if only,” he said heavily. “But I can assure you that even amidst cruelties one can find the peace and joy, though sometimes it needed to be sought with greater effort.” He sighed deeply and grasped her free hand gently. “Our courage could only be revealed by the risk we think to be worth and hence we dare to have in our life in order to achieve the happiness we deserve. In this sense you are the bravest being I have ever met in my life.” Albus stood and placed himself next to her – never letting go of her hand. He observed with much amusement as Minerva first looked at him with eyes bigger than saucer pan then with the hint of a slight flush at the nape of her neck she just looked away. But Albus could see the bourgeoning smile which had threatened to cover her face for the first time of a long time. It calmed his harassed nerves. She might never admit but Minerva loved being complimented – it was just plain good to have something which was constant in his life.
“We both are brave. Don’t forget yourself,” whispered Minerva into the silent night. Albus nodded.
“I always appreciate your most valuable appraisal, and willingly let myself be judged by you. But this time I must refuse it. I don’t want to belittle your share of burden by allowing myself to be raised next to you.” He squeezed her hand.
Minerva finally turned towards him – a curious expression played on her face. She lifted her hand and gently stroked his cheek.
“Don’t be so rough on yourself, good sir. Just like always you tend to forget that I prefer keeping you close to me. Why were you not with me? Why did you avoid me?” He felt her hand tremble while never ending the gentle movements on his face.
“I was afraid,” he told honestly. “I was afraid that my presence could repulse you.” He took her hand and kissed her palm.
“But your presence would have been support had you been there. And reassurance of your faith in me.”
“Ah, but Minerva, my faith is infinite when it comes to you. Without this trust I would have never graced you.” He grasped both of her hands in his. For a moment there was silence again. He gained advantage on it by studying her delicate hands for the millions of time. And for the millions of time he wondered how it could be so gentle but firm when she needed to guide him. He was snapped out of his mood quite fervently.
“But I failed.” Her gaze became cold as if daring him to oppose her. “Probably, it's better this way. I have never meant to be...” Albus interrupted her quite harshly. Sometimes the greats could have clouded judgment, the wise could have moments of insanity.
“Don't ever think that about yourself.”
“But will you ask me again? Would you?” Albus felt his soul burst out upon having heard the question he had dreaded never to hear. He leaned closer to her and brushed his lips against her soft cheek.
“Let this be your answer for now.”
“What if it’s not enough?”
“It must be.” He stood and helped Minerva up.
“And what if I wanted to gamble more?” She stepped closer, eyes intent, face flushed.
Albus let go of her hands.
“Good night, Professor McGonagall.”
She clearly was puzzled for a moment, then she smiled.
“Good night, Professor Dumbledore.”
Albus stared wistfully as she turned and with a very feminine sway of her hips crossed the room. After a short moment he followed her, a knowing smile around his mouth.
She had said good night to Professor Dumbledore.
The End
