Post by childminerva on Dec 16, 2006 22:11:09 GMT -5
At the end of the month...all hell breaks loose.
Here's my response to the challenge...please tell me if you like it.
After the challenge is over I'll be adding it to my fanfic 100 ;D
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Albus Dumbledore woke with the sun streaming in through the window and onto his face. Birds were chirping sweetly just outside the window and Albus opened his eyes with a smile, knowing that it was a beautiful Saturday morning and that he had absolutely nothing planned. Nothing that is, except for some quality time with his wife.
The Headmaster rose, and when he found himself alone, knew that Minerva had already left for her office where she would be busy grading papers. But Albus did not intend for Minerva to spend the day reading her students’ homework; she had been working far too hard lately and he wanted her to take the day off and just relax.
Albus set off for Minerva’s office and he smiled to himself as he crept up behind his wife as she sat at her desk. Placing one hand on the small of her back, Albus used the other to remove the pins from her hair.
“What do you think you are doing, Albus Dumbledore?” Minerva asked sharply, causing him to pause.
“Just helping you relax, my dear,” he told her.
“And how, exactly, is this supposed to help me relax?” she demanded, turning around to face her husband and pointing to the hair now hanging down her back.
“Um, well I thought—“
“It took me twenty minutes to pin my hair up and not an hour later you pull it back down again. I thought you understood how distracting it is for me to work with my hair down!”
Minerva glared at Albus, but he brightened.
“That’s just it, you see. I don’t want you to work today. I wanted us to have some time alone.”
Minerva’s eyes flashed dangerously.
“Are you telling me that you are deliberately preventing me from completing my work, just because you want sex?”
Albus was hurt.
“No that’s not it, Minerva,” he protested, “I only wanted you to take some time off. I didn’t mean for us to have sex, unless of course you wanted to because in that case—“
Tears sprang up in Minerva’s eyes at his words.
“No, I didn’t want to have sex today Albus, I have an entire stack of seventh year N.E.W.T. essays to grade before Monday. Now I’m sorry if that makes me a bad wife, but…”
Minerva dissolved into tears and Albus stepped back in horror as he remembered that it was the end of the month. The end of the month meant terror and uncertainty as his beloved wife went through what is known as…PMT.
“Ah, well then, I’m sorry to have disturbed you…so, I’ll just leave you to your work.”
Albus backed out of the room as he spoke and once he had cleared the doorway he shut the door quickly. Twenty-eight years of marriage had not given Albus any foolproof ways of dealing with this time of the month, except to stay far, far away until the crisis had passed. But Albus was a Gryffindor and was therefore rather brave and he did not want to just abandon his wife merely because she could not control her emotions, though in this case he might have been a little stupid as well. Albus decided that he should try to anticipate her needs and instead of bothering her, send her flowers and some of her favorite treats so that she would feel better as she did her work.
With that plan in mind, Albus set off for the greenhouses, where he found Pomona Sprout busy with her plants.
“Pomona! Do you think you could help me pull together some pretty flowers or some nice smelling plants to send to Minerva? She’s not having a great day and-“ Albus’s urgent words were cut short by an angry glance from the Herbology professor.
“Well I wouldn’t mind getting some flowers! I’d love to help you Headmaster, but I’m not having such a wonderful day myself and I guess you just failed to notice that I’m a bit busy.”
The normally cheerful witch sniffed and turned away in tears before entering one of her greenhouses and slamming the door shut behind her.
Albus watched her go, mouth agape. Two women, in the same castle, on the same menstrual schedule. Albus could only give thanks that it was a rather large castle and if he wished, he could remain quite separate from the both of them.
But now Albus was left with no flowers for Minerva. He could have conjured them, but they would not be real and he was hoping Pomona would have helped him decide what types of flowers were best. He headed back to the castle and caught sight of Rolanda Hooch near the Quidditch pitch. He waved, but knew better than to go any closer; Rolanda was emotionally unstable on the best of days.
Albus was on his way to the Hogwarts kitchens when he collided with someone. It was Severus Snape and the Potions Master apologized curtly before looking behind him furtively.
“Are you trying to avoid someone, Severus?” Albus asked, feeling a bit amused.
Severus looked back at the Headmaster and Albus thought he detected a faint trace of panic on the younger man’s usually impenetrable features.
“Well the thing is, I…” Severus let his words trail away as he looked behind him once more.
“Yes, Severus,” encouraged Albus, “what is it?”
Severus closed his eyes and shook his head.
“I merely offered Professor Sinistra a premenstrual potion as she seemed a bit, irritable, this morning, more irritable than usual that is,” said Severus, “she did not seem to appreciate my offer, however, and is shall I say, on the warpath. I barely escaped with my life. Don’t laugh Headmaster, I assure you that I am not exaggerating in the least.”
Albus did not find anything remotely amusing about this information and laid a comforting hand on the Potions Master’s shoulder.
“My advice is to keep running,” he told Severus in all seriousness. “Run quickly and stay out of sight for the next few days. It’s the only safe solution.”
Severus looked at the Headmaster in surprise, but he seemed to understand that his boss had some experience in this matter and did not argue but rather nodded and hurried off.
Albus realized that somehow, being in the same space for most of the year had somehow caused the menstrual cycles of the women in the castle to align with cataclysmic results. Shaking his head at the danger he and all the other males in the castle were currently in, Albus tickled the portrait of fruit and was admitted to the kitchens where he was set upon my a dozen or more eager house elves.
Albus raised his hands to quell the torrent of words and offers of food that rushed at him from the elves and requested that a plate of Minerva’s favorite foods be sent up to her. He decided that after the morning he was having, a cup of hot chocolate was in order. A small female elf was beside herself with excitement when he requested this treat and a few moments later she returned with a steaming mug.
Upon accepting the mug from the house elf, Albus accidentally split some of the hot liquid on himself and gasped as it burned his leg.
The house elf that had served him burst into tears and flung herself down at his feet as sobs wracked her tiny body.
“Mitsy is sorry sir!” she squeaked. “Mitsy should be punished for hurting the poor Headmaster. Mitsy is a disgraced elf, sir, a bad, bad elf.”
Albus closed his eyes and groaned inwardly; even the house elves were emotional today. Then again, he reasoned, house elves were always emotional.
“It was not your fault Mitsy,” he assured her. “Please stop crying.”
The house elf stood up and backed away, brushing her tears away furiously, though Albus could see that she was still shaking. He decided that he wasn’t really in the mood for hot chocolate any longer.
Thanking the house elves once again, Albus left the kitchens and decided that what he really needed was a nap; so much for his beautiful Saturday.
Albus entered his rooms to find Minerva sitting on the couch with a book. She looked up at him indifferently before returning to her book. Albus froze in place and stared at her, unsure of what to do.
“Hello, Minerva,” he said uncertainly. She looked up again.
“Is something wrong Albus?”
Albus wondered if this was a trick question.
“Uh, no. How are you feeling?”
“Just fine, should I be feeling otherwise?”
“Well, no, I mean I hope that you are feeling well…after this morning, I—“
“After this morning what, Albus?” Minerva demanded, putting her book down on her lap and glaring at him.
He winced.
“Nothing, I, I…” Albus stuttered a bit and then gave up. “I’m going to take a nap. I’m not feeling very well.”
Minerva’s facial expression changed so fast it rather alarmed him. She jumped from the couch and ran to his side, a look of concern on her face.
“Albus dear, what is it?” she asked him, pressing a hand to his cheek tenderly. “What’s upset you?”
Albus knew his life would end in a second if he said “you”, so he merely shrugged.
“Nothing at all, I’m just tired.”
“All right, but if you need anything I’ll be right here,” Minerva assured him, giving him a quick kiss.
Albus hurried from her side and entered their bedroom, shutting and locking the door behind him. For all his Gryffindor bravery, Albus knew he should have joined Severus Snape and just kept on running.
Here's my response to the challenge...please tell me if you like it.
After the challenge is over I'll be adding it to my fanfic 100 ;D
---------------------------
Albus Dumbledore woke with the sun streaming in through the window and onto his face. Birds were chirping sweetly just outside the window and Albus opened his eyes with a smile, knowing that it was a beautiful Saturday morning and that he had absolutely nothing planned. Nothing that is, except for some quality time with his wife.
The Headmaster rose, and when he found himself alone, knew that Minerva had already left for her office where she would be busy grading papers. But Albus did not intend for Minerva to spend the day reading her students’ homework; she had been working far too hard lately and he wanted her to take the day off and just relax.
Albus set off for Minerva’s office and he smiled to himself as he crept up behind his wife as she sat at her desk. Placing one hand on the small of her back, Albus used the other to remove the pins from her hair.
“What do you think you are doing, Albus Dumbledore?” Minerva asked sharply, causing him to pause.
“Just helping you relax, my dear,” he told her.
“And how, exactly, is this supposed to help me relax?” she demanded, turning around to face her husband and pointing to the hair now hanging down her back.
“Um, well I thought—“
“It took me twenty minutes to pin my hair up and not an hour later you pull it back down again. I thought you understood how distracting it is for me to work with my hair down!”
Minerva glared at Albus, but he brightened.
“That’s just it, you see. I don’t want you to work today. I wanted us to have some time alone.”
Minerva’s eyes flashed dangerously.
“Are you telling me that you are deliberately preventing me from completing my work, just because you want sex?”
Albus was hurt.
“No that’s not it, Minerva,” he protested, “I only wanted you to take some time off. I didn’t mean for us to have sex, unless of course you wanted to because in that case—“
Tears sprang up in Minerva’s eyes at his words.
“No, I didn’t want to have sex today Albus, I have an entire stack of seventh year N.E.W.T. essays to grade before Monday. Now I’m sorry if that makes me a bad wife, but…”
Minerva dissolved into tears and Albus stepped back in horror as he remembered that it was the end of the month. The end of the month meant terror and uncertainty as his beloved wife went through what is known as…PMT.
“Ah, well then, I’m sorry to have disturbed you…so, I’ll just leave you to your work.”
Albus backed out of the room as he spoke and once he had cleared the doorway he shut the door quickly. Twenty-eight years of marriage had not given Albus any foolproof ways of dealing with this time of the month, except to stay far, far away until the crisis had passed. But Albus was a Gryffindor and was therefore rather brave and he did not want to just abandon his wife merely because she could not control her emotions, though in this case he might have been a little stupid as well. Albus decided that he should try to anticipate her needs and instead of bothering her, send her flowers and some of her favorite treats so that she would feel better as she did her work.
With that plan in mind, Albus set off for the greenhouses, where he found Pomona Sprout busy with her plants.
“Pomona! Do you think you could help me pull together some pretty flowers or some nice smelling plants to send to Minerva? She’s not having a great day and-“ Albus’s urgent words were cut short by an angry glance from the Herbology professor.
“Well I wouldn’t mind getting some flowers! I’d love to help you Headmaster, but I’m not having such a wonderful day myself and I guess you just failed to notice that I’m a bit busy.”
The normally cheerful witch sniffed and turned away in tears before entering one of her greenhouses and slamming the door shut behind her.
Albus watched her go, mouth agape. Two women, in the same castle, on the same menstrual schedule. Albus could only give thanks that it was a rather large castle and if he wished, he could remain quite separate from the both of them.
But now Albus was left with no flowers for Minerva. He could have conjured them, but they would not be real and he was hoping Pomona would have helped him decide what types of flowers were best. He headed back to the castle and caught sight of Rolanda Hooch near the Quidditch pitch. He waved, but knew better than to go any closer; Rolanda was emotionally unstable on the best of days.
Albus was on his way to the Hogwarts kitchens when he collided with someone. It was Severus Snape and the Potions Master apologized curtly before looking behind him furtively.
“Are you trying to avoid someone, Severus?” Albus asked, feeling a bit amused.
Severus looked back at the Headmaster and Albus thought he detected a faint trace of panic on the younger man’s usually impenetrable features.
“Well the thing is, I…” Severus let his words trail away as he looked behind him once more.
“Yes, Severus,” encouraged Albus, “what is it?”
Severus closed his eyes and shook his head.
“I merely offered Professor Sinistra a premenstrual potion as she seemed a bit, irritable, this morning, more irritable than usual that is,” said Severus, “she did not seem to appreciate my offer, however, and is shall I say, on the warpath. I barely escaped with my life. Don’t laugh Headmaster, I assure you that I am not exaggerating in the least.”
Albus did not find anything remotely amusing about this information and laid a comforting hand on the Potions Master’s shoulder.
“My advice is to keep running,” he told Severus in all seriousness. “Run quickly and stay out of sight for the next few days. It’s the only safe solution.”
Severus looked at the Headmaster in surprise, but he seemed to understand that his boss had some experience in this matter and did not argue but rather nodded and hurried off.
Albus realized that somehow, being in the same space for most of the year had somehow caused the menstrual cycles of the women in the castle to align with cataclysmic results. Shaking his head at the danger he and all the other males in the castle were currently in, Albus tickled the portrait of fruit and was admitted to the kitchens where he was set upon my a dozen or more eager house elves.
Albus raised his hands to quell the torrent of words and offers of food that rushed at him from the elves and requested that a plate of Minerva’s favorite foods be sent up to her. He decided that after the morning he was having, a cup of hot chocolate was in order. A small female elf was beside herself with excitement when he requested this treat and a few moments later she returned with a steaming mug.
Upon accepting the mug from the house elf, Albus accidentally split some of the hot liquid on himself and gasped as it burned his leg.
The house elf that had served him burst into tears and flung herself down at his feet as sobs wracked her tiny body.
“Mitsy is sorry sir!” she squeaked. “Mitsy should be punished for hurting the poor Headmaster. Mitsy is a disgraced elf, sir, a bad, bad elf.”
Albus closed his eyes and groaned inwardly; even the house elves were emotional today. Then again, he reasoned, house elves were always emotional.
“It was not your fault Mitsy,” he assured her. “Please stop crying.”
The house elf stood up and backed away, brushing her tears away furiously, though Albus could see that she was still shaking. He decided that he wasn’t really in the mood for hot chocolate any longer.
Thanking the house elves once again, Albus left the kitchens and decided that what he really needed was a nap; so much for his beautiful Saturday.
Albus entered his rooms to find Minerva sitting on the couch with a book. She looked up at him indifferently before returning to her book. Albus froze in place and stared at her, unsure of what to do.
“Hello, Minerva,” he said uncertainly. She looked up again.
“Is something wrong Albus?”
Albus wondered if this was a trick question.
“Uh, no. How are you feeling?”
“Just fine, should I be feeling otherwise?”
“Well, no, I mean I hope that you are feeling well…after this morning, I—“
“After this morning what, Albus?” Minerva demanded, putting her book down on her lap and glaring at him.
He winced.
“Nothing, I, I…” Albus stuttered a bit and then gave up. “I’m going to take a nap. I’m not feeling very well.”
Minerva’s facial expression changed so fast it rather alarmed him. She jumped from the couch and ran to his side, a look of concern on her face.
“Albus dear, what is it?” she asked him, pressing a hand to his cheek tenderly. “What’s upset you?”
Albus knew his life would end in a second if he said “you”, so he merely shrugged.
“Nothing at all, I’m just tired.”
“All right, but if you need anything I’ll be right here,” Minerva assured him, giving him a quick kiss.
Albus hurried from her side and entered their bedroom, shutting and locking the door behind him. For all his Gryffindor bravery, Albus knew he should have joined Severus Snape and just kept on running.
