Post by ginger newts on Mar 30, 2005 20:58:26 GMT -5
Made of What?
Albus Dumbledore signed the last of the Governor’s reports with a flourish while his deputy headmistress smiled secretly across the desk at the way the very tip of his tongue escaped his lips. From her vantage point, the noble wizard looked like a small child just learning to write as he concentrated on not missing any letters in his ridiculously long name. Minerva McGonagall had always believed that Albus’ full name suited him well, but he hated the lengthy moniker. The report signed, sealed, and placed on top of the pile ready to be mailed out in the morning, Albus stood and walked around his desk toward Minerva. In an instant, he was no longer Albus Dumbledore: Headmaster of Hogwarts, but rather Albus Dumbledore: Man Newly in Love.
He stepped in front of Minerva’s high backed wooden chair and, placing his hands on the armrests for balance, leaned down to kiss her softly. She smiled against his lips and stood to join him.
“Tea?” he asked casually.
“Sounds wonderful,” Minerva answered.
They had just spent the last several hours going over detention records, exam scores, and other reports from the rest of the teachers, filling out various reports to be sent to the Board of Governors and writing letters to parents. A break was very much in order. Albus took Minerva by the hand and led her not to the small settee in the corner of his office, but through the door into his personal sitting room. Before the Christmas holidays, Minerva could have counted the number of times she’d been in this room on both hands, but in the last several months she had lost track of the number of quiet evenings and weekend afternoons spent in the cozy space with her new love.
Before he had even finished drinking his tea, Albus reached into his pocket for the ever present bag of lemon drops. Minerva shook her head, but was smiling, she had got used to Albus and his Muggle sweets long before they became a couple. It was part of what made him Albus Dumbledore to her, but she had yet to try one for herself.
“Lemon drop?” Albus offered, as always.
“No, thank you,” Minerva refused.
“Oh, come on,” he gave her puppy dog eyes. “It won’t hurt you.”
Albus held one of the sweets in front of Minerva’s lips temptingly, but she remained hesitant to taste it. “If you don’t like it, I promise I won’t be offended when you spit it out,” he said. “But what if you do like it?”
His eyes held that familiar, irresistible twinkle that Minerva knew could convince her to do anything in this world. Not that she usually needed much persuading to take part in anything Albus believed to be a good idea. So, after a moment’s hesitation, Minerva opened her mouth to receive the candy. Albus slipped it gently between her inviting pink lips and chuckled when she playfully nipped the tip of his finger. He waited for her to finally admit that his favorite sweet was indeed very good, and was surprised when instead her face twisted into one of dislike.
“Minerva?” he asked.
“Albus, these don’t taste like lemon at all!”
“Well, not plain lemon juice no. That wouldn’t be very appetizing,” he responded in bewilderment.
“No, I mean they don’t taste a thing like lemon,” she answered. “It tastes of...I don’t know, nothing natural. What’s in these?”
“I don’t know, I never read the bag.” Albus didn’t understand why she cared what was in the lemon drops. Why didn’t she like them?
Minerva rose from the couch and crossed back into Albus’ office, where she searched through the bottom drawer for the larger bag the lemon drops were purchased in. Making a triumphant noise, she carried the bag back into the sitting room and began examining it for a list of ingredients.
“Albus, these are nothing but chemicals,” she exclaimed, reading off a nearly un-pronounceable list of sweeteners and flavorings.
“What?” he cried, grabbing the bag from her hands to check for himself.
With a look of disgust, Albus put the bag on the coffee table and removed the half-eaten piece of lemon candy from his mouth. “I had no idea what these were made of,” he said.
“Let’s go down to Honeyduke’s and get you some nice chocolate or jelly slugs, anything made of natural ingredients,” Minerva suggested.
Albus’ face lit up like a child’s at the prospect of an afternoon spent in the candy shop in Hogsmeade. He readily followed Minerva toward the door, his mouth already watering as he tried to decide which of the wide array of sweets he would be purchasing soon. Silently, he vowed never to eat another lemon drop again, they weren’t the least bit appetizing now that he knew what went into them.
The End
Albus Dumbledore signed the last of the Governor’s reports with a flourish while his deputy headmistress smiled secretly across the desk at the way the very tip of his tongue escaped his lips. From her vantage point, the noble wizard looked like a small child just learning to write as he concentrated on not missing any letters in his ridiculously long name. Minerva McGonagall had always believed that Albus’ full name suited him well, but he hated the lengthy moniker. The report signed, sealed, and placed on top of the pile ready to be mailed out in the morning, Albus stood and walked around his desk toward Minerva. In an instant, he was no longer Albus Dumbledore: Headmaster of Hogwarts, but rather Albus Dumbledore: Man Newly in Love.
He stepped in front of Minerva’s high backed wooden chair and, placing his hands on the armrests for balance, leaned down to kiss her softly. She smiled against his lips and stood to join him.
“Tea?” he asked casually.
“Sounds wonderful,” Minerva answered.
They had just spent the last several hours going over detention records, exam scores, and other reports from the rest of the teachers, filling out various reports to be sent to the Board of Governors and writing letters to parents. A break was very much in order. Albus took Minerva by the hand and led her not to the small settee in the corner of his office, but through the door into his personal sitting room. Before the Christmas holidays, Minerva could have counted the number of times she’d been in this room on both hands, but in the last several months she had lost track of the number of quiet evenings and weekend afternoons spent in the cozy space with her new love.
Before he had even finished drinking his tea, Albus reached into his pocket for the ever present bag of lemon drops. Minerva shook her head, but was smiling, she had got used to Albus and his Muggle sweets long before they became a couple. It was part of what made him Albus Dumbledore to her, but she had yet to try one for herself.
“Lemon drop?” Albus offered, as always.
“No, thank you,” Minerva refused.
“Oh, come on,” he gave her puppy dog eyes. “It won’t hurt you.”
Albus held one of the sweets in front of Minerva’s lips temptingly, but she remained hesitant to taste it. “If you don’t like it, I promise I won’t be offended when you spit it out,” he said. “But what if you do like it?”
His eyes held that familiar, irresistible twinkle that Minerva knew could convince her to do anything in this world. Not that she usually needed much persuading to take part in anything Albus believed to be a good idea. So, after a moment’s hesitation, Minerva opened her mouth to receive the candy. Albus slipped it gently between her inviting pink lips and chuckled when she playfully nipped the tip of his finger. He waited for her to finally admit that his favorite sweet was indeed very good, and was surprised when instead her face twisted into one of dislike.
“Minerva?” he asked.
“Albus, these don’t taste like lemon at all!”
“Well, not plain lemon juice no. That wouldn’t be very appetizing,” he responded in bewilderment.
“No, I mean they don’t taste a thing like lemon,” she answered. “It tastes of...I don’t know, nothing natural. What’s in these?”
“I don’t know, I never read the bag.” Albus didn’t understand why she cared what was in the lemon drops. Why didn’t she like them?
Minerva rose from the couch and crossed back into Albus’ office, where she searched through the bottom drawer for the larger bag the lemon drops were purchased in. Making a triumphant noise, she carried the bag back into the sitting room and began examining it for a list of ingredients.
“Albus, these are nothing but chemicals,” she exclaimed, reading off a nearly un-pronounceable list of sweeteners and flavorings.
“What?” he cried, grabbing the bag from her hands to check for himself.
With a look of disgust, Albus put the bag on the coffee table and removed the half-eaten piece of lemon candy from his mouth. “I had no idea what these were made of,” he said.
“Let’s go down to Honeyduke’s and get you some nice chocolate or jelly slugs, anything made of natural ingredients,” Minerva suggested.
Albus’ face lit up like a child’s at the prospect of an afternoon spent in the candy shop in Hogsmeade. He readily followed Minerva toward the door, his mouth already watering as he tried to decide which of the wide array of sweets he would be purchasing soon. Silently, he vowed never to eat another lemon drop again, they weren’t the least bit appetizing now that he knew what went into them.
The End
I don't think Albus will find something better than sherbet lemons. Kandie
