Post by griseldalafey on Sept 1, 2004 16:58:53 GMT -5
-o[]o-
A quarter of an hour later, Albus and Minerva were settled in his office and Poppy put the wards up. The first day was spend getting comfortable and getting used to hearing the other cry.
Both of them needed fight the urge to comfort each other constantly, learning to realise that they weren’t crying out of grief or sadness.
But it was difficult. Looking at the spotted skin of her cheeks, Albus wanted to do nothing more then to pull her in his arms and make it stop somehow. His own tears didn’t bother him half as much as to see her cry.
Minerva was going through a similar emotion. Seeing him so sad, although she knew he wasn’t really feeling like that stirred a feeling deep in her chest. She had never felt her love for him as clearly as she did now.
During the second day they made various attempt to cheer each other up. Cheering charms proved to have the opposite effect so Albus told every joke he had ever heard off and Minerva shared some of her childhood anecdotes. But still they continued to weep uncontrollably.
In the evening they played the Two Options- game. Albus had thought it up and although it amused them both highly, they still couldn’t stop shedding tears.
“Alright, Min..nerva…, Gryfindor colours or… emerald green?”
“Gryfindor colours”, Minerva replied immediately. “Albus, a lion or a *sniff* phoenix?”
“A phoenix”, Albus answered after a second.
“Traitor”, Minerva sniffled.
During the third day the situation became worse. Their faces started to feel tender because of the constant salt tears that were running down their cheeks and their throats hurt.
Poppy magically send sweet drinks, cough drops and lotion to ease their pain.
When Minerva complained about a headache, late afternoon, Albus gestured to the couch. He conjured up a pillow and placed it on the armrest. “Lie down with your head on this”, he told her softly, his voice hoarse.
Minerva did as he told. When he stroked her hair away from her forehead she closed her eyes contentedly.
“You’re warm”, he told her as he began to rub her temples.
“Hmmmm”, came the somewhat drowsy reply. While he massaged her headache away a few tears trickled down over her face, but they were far less than before. Half an hour later she had drifted off to a deep sleep. Albus picked her up and carried her to the settee she had transfigured in a bed.
They spend the best part of the fourth day in bed, sleeping, as they were both exhausted.
On the fifth day, Minerva had had it. “I can’t… can’t take this anymore, Albu..hus…”, she cried. “I’m so..s..sick of crying all the time…”. She was weeping harder then ever.
“I know…”, Albus said quietly, tears streaming into his beard. “If only we knew how to stop this…”
Evening came and they ate a few bites. Because of the sore throat, eating had become very difficult. And besides that, the food was absolutely tasteless.
Then all of a sudden a window appeared in the wall and Poppy’ s face showed behind the glass. But when she began to talk they could hear her perfectly.
“I’ve talked with some of my colleagues from St. Mungo’s”, Poppy told them. “And I think I know what is wrong with you”.
“Thank Merlin!” both Albus and Minerva exclaimed.
“You’re suffering from the Pleurerites. It causes you to cry for no apparent reason”.
“We know that, Poppy”, Albus said warily.
“Is there a remedy?” Minerva asked eagerly.
“There is”, Poppy nodded. “In order to stop crying you need to experience the thing that makes you most happy”.
“Is it too much to ask for a simple solution?”, Minerva wailed angrily.
“Well”, Poppy said, a ghost of a smile playing around the corners of her mouth, “I want you to think about this, you might be surprised by what you come up with”.
A quarter of an hour later, Albus and Minerva were settled in his office and Poppy put the wards up. The first day was spend getting comfortable and getting used to hearing the other cry.
Both of them needed fight the urge to comfort each other constantly, learning to realise that they weren’t crying out of grief or sadness.
But it was difficult. Looking at the spotted skin of her cheeks, Albus wanted to do nothing more then to pull her in his arms and make it stop somehow. His own tears didn’t bother him half as much as to see her cry.
Minerva was going through a similar emotion. Seeing him so sad, although she knew he wasn’t really feeling like that stirred a feeling deep in her chest. She had never felt her love for him as clearly as she did now.
During the second day they made various attempt to cheer each other up. Cheering charms proved to have the opposite effect so Albus told every joke he had ever heard off and Minerva shared some of her childhood anecdotes. But still they continued to weep uncontrollably.
In the evening they played the Two Options- game. Albus had thought it up and although it amused them both highly, they still couldn’t stop shedding tears.
“Alright, Min..nerva…, Gryfindor colours or… emerald green?”
“Gryfindor colours”, Minerva replied immediately. “Albus, a lion or a *sniff* phoenix?”
“A phoenix”, Albus answered after a second.
“Traitor”, Minerva sniffled.
During the third day the situation became worse. Their faces started to feel tender because of the constant salt tears that were running down their cheeks and their throats hurt.
Poppy magically send sweet drinks, cough drops and lotion to ease their pain.
When Minerva complained about a headache, late afternoon, Albus gestured to the couch. He conjured up a pillow and placed it on the armrest. “Lie down with your head on this”, he told her softly, his voice hoarse.
Minerva did as he told. When he stroked her hair away from her forehead she closed her eyes contentedly.
“You’re warm”, he told her as he began to rub her temples.
“Hmmmm”, came the somewhat drowsy reply. While he massaged her headache away a few tears trickled down over her face, but they were far less than before. Half an hour later she had drifted off to a deep sleep. Albus picked her up and carried her to the settee she had transfigured in a bed.
They spend the best part of the fourth day in bed, sleeping, as they were both exhausted.
On the fifth day, Minerva had had it. “I can’t… can’t take this anymore, Albu..hus…”, she cried. “I’m so..s..sick of crying all the time…”. She was weeping harder then ever.
“I know…”, Albus said quietly, tears streaming into his beard. “If only we knew how to stop this…”
Evening came and they ate a few bites. Because of the sore throat, eating had become very difficult. And besides that, the food was absolutely tasteless.
Then all of a sudden a window appeared in the wall and Poppy’ s face showed behind the glass. But when she began to talk they could hear her perfectly.
“I’ve talked with some of my colleagues from St. Mungo’s”, Poppy told them. “And I think I know what is wrong with you”.
“Thank Merlin!” both Albus and Minerva exclaimed.
“You’re suffering from the Pleurerites. It causes you to cry for no apparent reason”.
“We know that, Poppy”, Albus said warily.
“Is there a remedy?” Minerva asked eagerly.
“There is”, Poppy nodded. “In order to stop crying you need to experience the thing that makes you most happy”.
“Is it too much to ask for a simple solution?”, Minerva wailed angrily.
“Well”, Poppy said, a ghost of a smile playing around the corners of her mouth, “I want you to think about this, you might be surprised by what you come up with”.
Go you! 
... making the name of that disease up, oh dear ;D! Great challenge response!
