Post by avadagypsy on Jun 18, 2006 5:06:54 GMT -5
“Just Two More Hours…”
Summary: It is the final day of the school year at Hogwarts, and Minerva McGonagall is more than a little stressed out during the final class of the day. What does Albus Dumbledore have planned to improve her mood? Beware of excessive fluffiness!
Rating: PG-13
Authors Note: YAY! I have finally completed a response for a Challenge! OK so this is pure fluff, but it seems that everything I write these days turns into a piece worthy of rotting your teeth, so just enjoy it!
Minerva McGonagall massaged her temples wearily and wiped away a bead of sweat that was dripping down her forehead. Why, why was her very last class of the year with the first year Hufflepuffs and Slytherins? And why did said class need to be held in the late afternoon of what may well be the hottest June day that Hogwarts has ever seen? And why - why was Frederik Poole turning Grace Winkelby’s ears purple without her knowledge.
“ Mr. Poole! I suggest you turn your attentions to the project at hand before I turn more than your ears purple!”
It wasn’t in Minerva’s nature to suggest the use of magical charms against a student as punishment, but really. Two hours. Surely they could concentrate for two more hours?
She glanced quickly around the room and answered her own question without any trouble. The class was supposed to be working in pairs to transfigure their water goblets into candle-sticks, but it seemed that their minds were elsewhere. Jikita Brown, a dreamy eyed Hufflepuff girl was staring absently at the ceiling, the occasional gold sparks shooting from the wand that she was twirling between her fingers. Two Slytherin girls at the back of the room were shooting furtive glances at a brooding young boy three desks in front of them, and whispering excitedly behind their hands. It seemed that Mr. Clarke’s wand had just backfired and was now emitting copious amounts of green smoke, and Mr. Poole had abandoned his attempt at turning the ears of others vibrant colours, and had now commenced rolling pieces of spare parchment into balls and flicking them at random classmates.
No. Apparently her class could not concentrate for two minutes, let alone two hours.
“Fifteen minutes, class, and I will be checking your progress, so I suggest you get a move on and – Mr. POOLE, back to your seat NOW!”
Minerva sighed and sat down behind her desk, absently pinning back a strand of hair that had broken free from her tight bun. Indeed, it seemed that there was little hope for her class this afternoon.
The sound of someone clearing their throat loudly, quickly bought Minerva’s attention to the man who had just appeared in the doorway of her classroom. He was smiling wickedly at her, his eyes twinkling across the room, but she regarded him with a tight lipped grimace. How was it possible that a man with that much hair could look so cool, calm and collected on such a stifling, hectic day as this?
“Ah, Professor McGonagall,” Albus Dumbledore addressed her, “Just the person I wanted to see!”
The general chatter about the classroom ceased immediately as the students stared wide eyed at their headmaster. He was rather impressive looking with his long auburn hair and beard, and Minerva supposed that through the eyes of a first year, his stature would be quite remarkable.
“Please,” Albus continued, addressing the children this time, “Continue with your work. I just wish to have a quick word with your teacher.” For the first time this lesson, the class made a great impression of working studiously on their water goblets, and Albus reached the teachers desk smiling. He studied Minerva’s flushed face carefully before speaking quietly enough for only her to hear.
“Tough Day?”
Minerva did not reply, but merely gave him a stern look that clearly said ‘What do you think?’
Albus chuckled softly, and turned to face the class.
“Children! If I may have your attention please?” The class immediately stopped what they were doing, their eyes fixed on the headmaster.
“I am happy to announce that class is dismissed for the day. Enjoy your afternoon.”
The children sat motionless, staring dumbfounded at Professor Dumbledore. He smiled, clapping his hands together, “I said ‘Class Dismissed’, now!”
There was a busy rustling as the students gathered up their belongings and left the classroom as quickly as possible, perhaps in fear that Professor McGonagall should protest against the Headmaster’s proclamation.
As the last student exited the classroom, slamming the door shut behind them, Albus dragged Minerva to her feet and snaked his arms around her waist. She half-heartedly resisted his embrace and attempted to produce an annoyed expression over her weary face, as she sputtered,
“How dare you dismiss my class. We still had an hour and a half of lesson left, what in the world gives you the right to just waltz in here and…”
Her protests were stifled by the consoling pressure of his lips against hers. She indulged herself in his embrace for a moment before pulling away and glaring at him fiercely. He chuckled once more at her expression and said simply,
“I am the Headmaster.”
She shut her eyes and shook her head lightly but a small smile spread over her lips as she did so.
“Besides,” he continued, “you look exhausted, and I thought we could spend a quiet afternoon together before the leaving feast tonight. No distractions, no interruptions.” His lips found the sensitive spot that he knew lay just behind her right ear, and he murmured against her skin, “Just you and me.”
Minerva tilted her head slightly to the left, in order to grant his lips easier access to her neck and considered,
“Well, I don’t like my chances of getting my class back in here for the afternoon…”
She trailed off as Albus continued his ministrations on her ear lobe, and he whispered,
“Should I take that as a ‘yes’?”
-------
Albus and Minerva were walking arm in arm through the school corridors. Clearly none of the other staff members had dismissed their classes so early in the afternoon, as the hallways were quiet and empty. The heels of Minerva’s boots echoed loudly over the stone flagged floors as Albus steered her, without any real destination in mind it seemed, through the castle.
The rays of sunlight beating down outside burst through the tall pane glass windows at various intervals along their journey, bouncing off rusty suits of armour and warming the sleepy occupants of assorted portraits lining the walls.
Minerva glanced sidelong at the man walking beside her. He was humming quietly under his breath and gazing absently in the distance.
“Albus, where are we going?”
“You’ll see. It’s a surprise.”
There was silence once more as they continued their journey through the empty corridors of the ancient castle. Minerva was just attempting to gain her bearings as they passed a giant tapestry that she had never seen before, when Albus stopped abruptly, his twinkling eyes upon Minerva once more.
“We’re here!”
“Ah – we’re where exactly?” Minerva’s brow was creased as she looked skeptically at Albus. She did not recognise this stretch of hallway but in her opinion it looked exactly the same as any other corridor in the castle.
“Wait there, I’ll show you,” Albus told her. Minerva watched, dumbfounded, as the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry began to walk up and down, past the tapestry beside them, muttering softly under his breath with his eyes closed.
Finally he came to a stop at her side once more, and she considered him with a sly smile and an arched eyebrow.
“Well, that does it. You’ve finally lost the plot. Truthfully, I am surprised it has taken this long. I would have thought…” But her sarcastic tirade was cut short as Albus silently indicated to a large, oak door to her right.
“That wasn’t there a minute ago,” Minerva muttered dumbstruck, the smirk quickly wiping from her face.
“You’re right, it wasn’t,” Albus replied, his eyes twinkling as he took her by the hand, “Come on.”
The door creaked slightly as the headmaster pushed it open and led Minerva inside. The scene that greeted them caused a shocked gasp to escape her lips. The room was large and spacious, and was lit only by the soft glow of candlelight. There was a long, low, squashy looking couch to their right and a small round coffee table upon which sat a bottle of champagne and two flute glasses. There was a large bunch of roses laying beside the champagne, and a bookshelf on the other side of the room was crammed to bursting point with a variety of publications, that seemed to range from “Advanced Concepts in Transfiguration” to “Famous Quidditch Players of History: Where are They Now?”.
A chess board was set upon a table by a large bay window that seemed to provide a magnificent view of the school lake, and soft, lilting music was emitting from some unknown source toward back of the room. Minerva stared open mouthed at Albus, who was gazing expectantly at her.
“Did – did you do all of this?”
“Well the idea was mine, but I had a little help. This is the Room of Requirement you see so…”
“The room of what?” Minerva queried her eyebrows raised.
“Requirement. But I had been planning all along to…”
His explanation was muffled by the pressure of her lips against his own, and they lost themselves for a moment in their passionate embrace. Finally when the need for oxygen became too great they pulled apart, but her arms remained firmly around his neck, her fingers tangling themselves in his hair.
“So you planned all of this then? Dismissing my class early? Bringing me here this afternoon?”
“Well yes and no. I had planned on bringing you here after classes today but…just because I am headmaster now, doesn’t mean that I forget the stress of conducting the final lesson of the term with a group of unruly first years.” He grinned impishly at her, and she planted a playful slap against his chest.
The stood for some time, in each others arms, merely enjoying the quietness, the touch, the scent, the feeling of being so close together. They fit, that was the only way to explain it, and it was a feeling that neither of them could possibly grow tired of.
“Champagne?” he queried finally, leading her towards the squashy couch.
“What are we celebrating?” she asked, sitting down.
Albus shrugged as he poured them each a glass, and handed one to her,
“To…” he hesitated, “To the end of the school year.”
“To the end of the school year,” Minerva agreed clinking her glass against his own.
She took a sip of her drink to cement the toast, as Albus pulled her close to him, kissing her temple and taking her hand in his own,
“And… and to us,” he added, so quietly that Minerva had to strain to hear him. In fact, it took her more than a moment to comprehend that Albus had just slipped something onto the ring finger of her left hand. She looked carefully at his apprehensive face, and then glanced down at her hand, where the glitter of gold and diamond caught her eye. A ring. A diamond ring was…
“What in the world…”
She watched, almost in a daze, as if in a dream, as Albus lowered himself to the floor on one knee in front of her. The slight tremor in his hand as he took hers in his own betrayed his seemingly calm exterior as he spoke simply,
“Marry me.”
“What…” Minerva began, suddenly unable to articulate the appropriate words.
“Marry me,” he said again, “Minerva McGonagall – I brought you here to ask you to marry me.”
She opened and closed her mouth quite stupidly for a moment, before she managed to utter a response,
“Y-yes. Yes! Of course - of course I will marry you,” she cupped his face in her hands and kissed the tip of his nose, and repeated, “Of course I will.”
With that, he scooped her enthusiastically into her arms, and she squealed in a rather un-Minerva-like manner as he squeezed her so tightly that she genuinely feared for the well-being of her ribs.
“Did you honestly think I would refuse that kind of offer?” she whispered, covertly into his ear.
“I assure you, I did not doubt it for one single minute,” He responded, puffing his chest out importantly, “Although I had feared that you may hex me into next year for dismissing your class on you.” She laughed and began to rain soft kisses of over his face.
“You,” she began in between kisses, “can – dismiss my – class – anytime you like.”
Her lips finally caught his own once more, and again they were lost in the sheer pleasure of one another. There was no more conversation, as the pair stumbled back into the squashy cushions of the couch, and only the soft sounds of passionate kisses and soft caresses echoed through the room.
------
Hours later, with the soft rays of the setting sun peeking through the window, and with Minerva fast asleep against his chest, Albus ran his fingers through her hair softly and whispered,
“Min? Min, wake up.”
She groaned softly and shifted slightly in her sleep, but did not open her eyes.
“Minerva? We need to get going. Dinner starts in fifteen minutes.”
She shifted again and murmured into his beard,
“Not hungry…”
He laughed softly at her sleepy assertion and whispered close to her ear.
“Be that as it may, I do not think it appropriate that both the Headmaster and his Deputy be absent from the Leaving Feast. Do you?”
His statement seemed to awaken her properly and he chuckled as she abruptly sat up, swearing softly under her breath. Her ebony hair was mussed about her face, and her cheeks were pink with sleep and warmth. Reaching out a hand, he brushed a strand of hair from her forehead and placed a kiss there. His fingers moved to caress the sparkling diamond that shone brightly from her left hand. Her eyes moved towards the object of his attention, and she nodded toward the ring whispering softly,
“I thought perhaps I had dreamt that…I wish we could just stay here…”
“Dinner,” he murmured, “And then supper in my quarters? Yes?”
She nodded, smiling, as she stood and straightened her robes.
“That’s sounds like a wonderful idea.”
Three minutes later, Minerva had pulled her hair back into it’s customary bun, Albus had banished the bunch of roses to Minerva’s private rooms and they were walking together once more, toward the Great Hall for the final feast of the school year.
The pair could hear the deafening chatter of the students milling about the Great Hall before they could see them, and as they descended the marble staircase, the first thing that Minerva saw was Frederik Poole levitating a small Hufflepuff boy six feet above the ground in front of an audience of sniggering Slytherin students. She shut her eyes briefly, before looking apologetically at Albus and rushing forwards toward the offending students. Albus watched, smiling as Minerva reprimanded the poor boy,
“Mr. Poole! I do not wish to deduct points from Slytherin merely minutes before the house-cup is awarded but please do not make the mistake of assuming that I won’t!”
Albus made his way slowly down the staircase as his new fiancée ushered the first years quickly into the Great Hall, and he sighed to himself.
Two hours. Two more hours, and the night would be theirs.
Finite!
Summary: It is the final day of the school year at Hogwarts, and Minerva McGonagall is more than a little stressed out during the final class of the day. What does Albus Dumbledore have planned to improve her mood? Beware of excessive fluffiness!
Rating: PG-13
Authors Note: YAY! I have finally completed a response for a Challenge! OK so this is pure fluff, but it seems that everything I write these days turns into a piece worthy of rotting your teeth, so just enjoy it!
Minerva McGonagall massaged her temples wearily and wiped away a bead of sweat that was dripping down her forehead. Why, why was her very last class of the year with the first year Hufflepuffs and Slytherins? And why did said class need to be held in the late afternoon of what may well be the hottest June day that Hogwarts has ever seen? And why - why was Frederik Poole turning Grace Winkelby’s ears purple without her knowledge.
“ Mr. Poole! I suggest you turn your attentions to the project at hand before I turn more than your ears purple!”
It wasn’t in Minerva’s nature to suggest the use of magical charms against a student as punishment, but really. Two hours. Surely they could concentrate for two more hours?
She glanced quickly around the room and answered her own question without any trouble. The class was supposed to be working in pairs to transfigure their water goblets into candle-sticks, but it seemed that their minds were elsewhere. Jikita Brown, a dreamy eyed Hufflepuff girl was staring absently at the ceiling, the occasional gold sparks shooting from the wand that she was twirling between her fingers. Two Slytherin girls at the back of the room were shooting furtive glances at a brooding young boy three desks in front of them, and whispering excitedly behind their hands. It seemed that Mr. Clarke’s wand had just backfired and was now emitting copious amounts of green smoke, and Mr. Poole had abandoned his attempt at turning the ears of others vibrant colours, and had now commenced rolling pieces of spare parchment into balls and flicking them at random classmates.
No. Apparently her class could not concentrate for two minutes, let alone two hours.
“Fifteen minutes, class, and I will be checking your progress, so I suggest you get a move on and – Mr. POOLE, back to your seat NOW!”
Minerva sighed and sat down behind her desk, absently pinning back a strand of hair that had broken free from her tight bun. Indeed, it seemed that there was little hope for her class this afternoon.
The sound of someone clearing their throat loudly, quickly bought Minerva’s attention to the man who had just appeared in the doorway of her classroom. He was smiling wickedly at her, his eyes twinkling across the room, but she regarded him with a tight lipped grimace. How was it possible that a man with that much hair could look so cool, calm and collected on such a stifling, hectic day as this?
“Ah, Professor McGonagall,” Albus Dumbledore addressed her, “Just the person I wanted to see!”
The general chatter about the classroom ceased immediately as the students stared wide eyed at their headmaster. He was rather impressive looking with his long auburn hair and beard, and Minerva supposed that through the eyes of a first year, his stature would be quite remarkable.
“Please,” Albus continued, addressing the children this time, “Continue with your work. I just wish to have a quick word with your teacher.” For the first time this lesson, the class made a great impression of working studiously on their water goblets, and Albus reached the teachers desk smiling. He studied Minerva’s flushed face carefully before speaking quietly enough for only her to hear.
“Tough Day?”
Minerva did not reply, but merely gave him a stern look that clearly said ‘What do you think?’
Albus chuckled softly, and turned to face the class.
“Children! If I may have your attention please?” The class immediately stopped what they were doing, their eyes fixed on the headmaster.
“I am happy to announce that class is dismissed for the day. Enjoy your afternoon.”
The children sat motionless, staring dumbfounded at Professor Dumbledore. He smiled, clapping his hands together, “I said ‘Class Dismissed’, now!”
There was a busy rustling as the students gathered up their belongings and left the classroom as quickly as possible, perhaps in fear that Professor McGonagall should protest against the Headmaster’s proclamation.
As the last student exited the classroom, slamming the door shut behind them, Albus dragged Minerva to her feet and snaked his arms around her waist. She half-heartedly resisted his embrace and attempted to produce an annoyed expression over her weary face, as she sputtered,
“How dare you dismiss my class. We still had an hour and a half of lesson left, what in the world gives you the right to just waltz in here and…”
Her protests were stifled by the consoling pressure of his lips against hers. She indulged herself in his embrace for a moment before pulling away and glaring at him fiercely. He chuckled once more at her expression and said simply,
“I am the Headmaster.”
She shut her eyes and shook her head lightly but a small smile spread over her lips as she did so.
“Besides,” he continued, “you look exhausted, and I thought we could spend a quiet afternoon together before the leaving feast tonight. No distractions, no interruptions.” His lips found the sensitive spot that he knew lay just behind her right ear, and he murmured against her skin, “Just you and me.”
Minerva tilted her head slightly to the left, in order to grant his lips easier access to her neck and considered,
“Well, I don’t like my chances of getting my class back in here for the afternoon…”
She trailed off as Albus continued his ministrations on her ear lobe, and he whispered,
“Should I take that as a ‘yes’?”
-------
Albus and Minerva were walking arm in arm through the school corridors. Clearly none of the other staff members had dismissed their classes so early in the afternoon, as the hallways were quiet and empty. The heels of Minerva’s boots echoed loudly over the stone flagged floors as Albus steered her, without any real destination in mind it seemed, through the castle.
The rays of sunlight beating down outside burst through the tall pane glass windows at various intervals along their journey, bouncing off rusty suits of armour and warming the sleepy occupants of assorted portraits lining the walls.
Minerva glanced sidelong at the man walking beside her. He was humming quietly under his breath and gazing absently in the distance.
“Albus, where are we going?”
“You’ll see. It’s a surprise.”
There was silence once more as they continued their journey through the empty corridors of the ancient castle. Minerva was just attempting to gain her bearings as they passed a giant tapestry that she had never seen before, when Albus stopped abruptly, his twinkling eyes upon Minerva once more.
“We’re here!”
“Ah – we’re where exactly?” Minerva’s brow was creased as she looked skeptically at Albus. She did not recognise this stretch of hallway but in her opinion it looked exactly the same as any other corridor in the castle.
“Wait there, I’ll show you,” Albus told her. Minerva watched, dumbfounded, as the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry began to walk up and down, past the tapestry beside them, muttering softly under his breath with his eyes closed.
Finally he came to a stop at her side once more, and she considered him with a sly smile and an arched eyebrow.
“Well, that does it. You’ve finally lost the plot. Truthfully, I am surprised it has taken this long. I would have thought…” But her sarcastic tirade was cut short as Albus silently indicated to a large, oak door to her right.
“That wasn’t there a minute ago,” Minerva muttered dumbstruck, the smirk quickly wiping from her face.
“You’re right, it wasn’t,” Albus replied, his eyes twinkling as he took her by the hand, “Come on.”
The door creaked slightly as the headmaster pushed it open and led Minerva inside. The scene that greeted them caused a shocked gasp to escape her lips. The room was large and spacious, and was lit only by the soft glow of candlelight. There was a long, low, squashy looking couch to their right and a small round coffee table upon which sat a bottle of champagne and two flute glasses. There was a large bunch of roses laying beside the champagne, and a bookshelf on the other side of the room was crammed to bursting point with a variety of publications, that seemed to range from “Advanced Concepts in Transfiguration” to “Famous Quidditch Players of History: Where are They Now?”.
A chess board was set upon a table by a large bay window that seemed to provide a magnificent view of the school lake, and soft, lilting music was emitting from some unknown source toward back of the room. Minerva stared open mouthed at Albus, who was gazing expectantly at her.
“Did – did you do all of this?”
“Well the idea was mine, but I had a little help. This is the Room of Requirement you see so…”
“The room of what?” Minerva queried her eyebrows raised.
“Requirement. But I had been planning all along to…”
His explanation was muffled by the pressure of her lips against his own, and they lost themselves for a moment in their passionate embrace. Finally when the need for oxygen became too great they pulled apart, but her arms remained firmly around his neck, her fingers tangling themselves in his hair.
“So you planned all of this then? Dismissing my class early? Bringing me here this afternoon?”
“Well yes and no. I had planned on bringing you here after classes today but…just because I am headmaster now, doesn’t mean that I forget the stress of conducting the final lesson of the term with a group of unruly first years.” He grinned impishly at her, and she planted a playful slap against his chest.
The stood for some time, in each others arms, merely enjoying the quietness, the touch, the scent, the feeling of being so close together. They fit, that was the only way to explain it, and it was a feeling that neither of them could possibly grow tired of.
“Champagne?” he queried finally, leading her towards the squashy couch.
“What are we celebrating?” she asked, sitting down.
Albus shrugged as he poured them each a glass, and handed one to her,
“To…” he hesitated, “To the end of the school year.”
“To the end of the school year,” Minerva agreed clinking her glass against his own.
She took a sip of her drink to cement the toast, as Albus pulled her close to him, kissing her temple and taking her hand in his own,
“And… and to us,” he added, so quietly that Minerva had to strain to hear him. In fact, it took her more than a moment to comprehend that Albus had just slipped something onto the ring finger of her left hand. She looked carefully at his apprehensive face, and then glanced down at her hand, where the glitter of gold and diamond caught her eye. A ring. A diamond ring was…
“What in the world…”
She watched, almost in a daze, as if in a dream, as Albus lowered himself to the floor on one knee in front of her. The slight tremor in his hand as he took hers in his own betrayed his seemingly calm exterior as he spoke simply,
“Marry me.”
“What…” Minerva began, suddenly unable to articulate the appropriate words.
“Marry me,” he said again, “Minerva McGonagall – I brought you here to ask you to marry me.”
She opened and closed her mouth quite stupidly for a moment, before she managed to utter a response,
“Y-yes. Yes! Of course - of course I will marry you,” she cupped his face in her hands and kissed the tip of his nose, and repeated, “Of course I will.”
With that, he scooped her enthusiastically into her arms, and she squealed in a rather un-Minerva-like manner as he squeezed her so tightly that she genuinely feared for the well-being of her ribs.
“Did you honestly think I would refuse that kind of offer?” she whispered, covertly into his ear.
“I assure you, I did not doubt it for one single minute,” He responded, puffing his chest out importantly, “Although I had feared that you may hex me into next year for dismissing your class on you.” She laughed and began to rain soft kisses of over his face.
“You,” she began in between kisses, “can – dismiss my – class – anytime you like.”
Her lips finally caught his own once more, and again they were lost in the sheer pleasure of one another. There was no more conversation, as the pair stumbled back into the squashy cushions of the couch, and only the soft sounds of passionate kisses and soft caresses echoed through the room.
------
Hours later, with the soft rays of the setting sun peeking through the window, and with Minerva fast asleep against his chest, Albus ran his fingers through her hair softly and whispered,
“Min? Min, wake up.”
She groaned softly and shifted slightly in her sleep, but did not open her eyes.
“Minerva? We need to get going. Dinner starts in fifteen minutes.”
She shifted again and murmured into his beard,
“Not hungry…”
He laughed softly at her sleepy assertion and whispered close to her ear.
“Be that as it may, I do not think it appropriate that both the Headmaster and his Deputy be absent from the Leaving Feast. Do you?”
His statement seemed to awaken her properly and he chuckled as she abruptly sat up, swearing softly under her breath. Her ebony hair was mussed about her face, and her cheeks were pink with sleep and warmth. Reaching out a hand, he brushed a strand of hair from her forehead and placed a kiss there. His fingers moved to caress the sparkling diamond that shone brightly from her left hand. Her eyes moved towards the object of his attention, and she nodded toward the ring whispering softly,
“I thought perhaps I had dreamt that…I wish we could just stay here…”
“Dinner,” he murmured, “And then supper in my quarters? Yes?”
She nodded, smiling, as she stood and straightened her robes.
“That’s sounds like a wonderful idea.”
Three minutes later, Minerva had pulled her hair back into it’s customary bun, Albus had banished the bunch of roses to Minerva’s private rooms and they were walking together once more, toward the Great Hall for the final feast of the school year.
The pair could hear the deafening chatter of the students milling about the Great Hall before they could see them, and as they descended the marble staircase, the first thing that Minerva saw was Frederik Poole levitating a small Hufflepuff boy six feet above the ground in front of an audience of sniggering Slytherin students. She shut her eyes briefly, before looking apologetically at Albus and rushing forwards toward the offending students. Albus watched, smiling as Minerva reprimanded the poor boy,
“Mr. Poole! I do not wish to deduct points from Slytherin merely minutes before the house-cup is awarded but please do not make the mistake of assuming that I won’t!”
Albus made his way slowly down the staircase as his new fiancée ushered the first years quickly into the Great Hall, and he sighed to himself.
Two hours. Two more hours, and the night would be theirs.
Finite!
xXx 
Perfect combination for fluff.
loved it. great responce =]
