Post by osusprinks on Jun 14, 2007 4:04:23 GMT -5
A/N: I realize this is late, but I am posting it anyway as I stayed up all night trying to finish it. It's not my best attempt, but it is complete, all 1,908 words of it. lol Congrats, Pier! 
Raising her hand slightly to catch Aberforth’s attention, Minerva silently ordered yet another drink. She sipped the double scotch that instantly appeared before her, noting that she was now several ahead of her companions... not that she was surprised.
It had been Pomona’s idea to get out of the castle for the evening. She had insisted Minerva come along, that she had been “hiding from that prat long enough.” Minerva had disagreed with her friend’s take on the situation with her sometime-stalker who happened to live in Hogsmeade and frequented the Hog’s Head, but she had agreed that she needed a night out. Now, however, she was beginning to think she would have been better off sitting alone in her rooms nursing her own, higher quality, bottle of scotch.
Pomona sat to her left, going on and on about her prized fanged geraniums, a favorite topic when she was nervous. To Minerva’s right, Filius was busy hanging on Pomona’s every word, even as she told them for the third time about the process used to tame the little beasts. Minerva’s words, not Pomona’s: she had not yet forgiven them for taking a chunk out of her fur when she had been visiting the greenhouses that last week.
Minerva’s only hope of a conversation involving anything but geraniums for the evening sat on the other side of Pomona. His bearded chin rested on one hand as he absent-mindedly swirled his drink with the gummy worm Aberforth had used to garnish it. She wondered what he was drinking as he raised his hand, allowing the fluid to drip off the worm and back into the glass before eating the chewy candy. Another appeared over the top of the glass filled with some sort of pink concoction, and Albus began the process again. He seemed lost in deep thought and Minerva wished he would switch seats with Filius so they could all be sitting with whom they wanted.
Not that she wanted to sit with Albus. No, she was just worried about him. It had nothing to do with that fact that she was attracted to him and couldn’t help but wonder what those candy-coated lips would feel like against her own. That had absolutely nothing to do with it.
She giggled to herself, though none of her companions seemed to notice. Deciding she had either had too much scotch or too little, Minerva ordered another double and had just taken a sip, when he entered the pub.
He was Magnus Macdonald, not so fondly known as “Dent-head” by his many enemies and his friends, the few he had. He and Minerva had gone through Hogwarts together and had even played quidditch together on Gryffindor’s team, yet they had never been more than acquaintances. For whatever reason, she was never sure why exactly, he had decided at some point within the last year that they were meant to be together. She had put up with his owls and gifts of flowers and chocolates, but when he decided to move to Hogsmeade to “be nearer to his love” she knew she would have to be harsh. Unfortunately, whether it was due to his natural Scottish stubbornness or one too many bludgers to the head, Magnus refused to give up no matter how rude Minerva was, and she had been very rude.
As he walked up to the bar and stood between Minerva and Pomona, Minerva reflected that her friend might have been right, she probably had been hiding from this idiotic excuse for a man and with good reason. A large, greasy hand now rested on her waist and as she spun her stool around in outrage, even greasier lips met hers.
It took a few moments to process what had happened, but by they time her brain had caught up with the action, Magnus had already been forcibly removed from her person. Instead, he was facing a suddenly seething Albus Dumbledore.
Minerva looked from one to another, not sure what to do. Stopping Albus from killing the man was her first inclination, but she worried Magnus would take that as some sort of twisted sign of affection. While she had no doubts about Albus winning in any sort of fight with a “Dent-head,” she knew he would eventually feel guilty about using his obviously superior dueling skills against someone nearly unarmed with skill of any sort. She was still deciding on the proper action to take when the decision was made for her.
Magnus threw a hook, which Albus easily dodged, throwing Magnus off balance before hitting him with an uppercut to the stomach. Magnus fell to the ground, moaning as he clutched his stomach. He lay there only a moment before, in a display of magic that surprised Minerva though considering his job it shouldn’t have, Aberforth twitched his wand a few times, levitating Magnus out the door before dumping him on the sidewalk beyond.
The rest of the patrons seemed to not notice the disruption and paid no attention to the four Hogwarts staff members as they collected themselves.
When the fistfight had begun, Filius had jumped down from his stool, as they all had, and instinctively pulled his wand with one hand while positioning himself in front of the two women, but mainly Pomona, who had, just as instinctively, clung to him. The two were now, rather clumsily, talking about why she had clung to him and more importantly, why he had wrapped his arms around her when the fighting was done.
Thankful that all Magnus’ craziness might have done some good if her two friends finally admitted their feelings and she had to sit through fewer geranium conversations, Minerva turned to Albus, thanking him for coming to her rescue.
“I knew he was a... but I couldn’t have imagined... But thank you, Albus. I think I am finally rid of any unwanted admirers!”
At this, Albus’ previous glum mood seemed to return. His face settled into a frown and he seemed to almost blush a bit.
“About that, Minerva. Perhaps we could take a walk?”
Minerva smiled uneasily. She was suddenly sober from the adrenaline rush and now, once more, was wondering what could be bothering her friend. “Of course, Albus.” She turned to say goodbye to Pomona and Filius, only to find the two so engrossed in each other that they wouldn’t have noticed a three legged goat walk by, wearing a neon green and pink striped sign that read “Go Home” in large, flashing, purple script. And in fact, they hadn’t. Minerva still could not understand why Aberforth chose such an odd way of announcing last call, but she had accepted long ago that she would never completely understand the younger Dumbledore brother.
Albus tapped Filius on the shoulder to get his attention before letting them know that he was walking Minerva back to the castle. He made a point to ask Filius to make sure Pomona made it to bed safely, though, by the looks of things, Minerva was beginning to wonder whose bed that might be.
Moments later Albus and Minerva were walking down the well-traveled path that led to Hogwarts. It was not the first time in the course of their friendship that Minerva had found herself unable to read her former professor, but usually she had some idea what was going on in that handsome head of his. Tonight, she was at a loss and so she walked, silently by his side. They made it to Hogwarts and he seemed to hesitate inside the gates before leading them toward the lake.
As their walk continued along the shore, Minerva searched for something, anything, to say. Just as she was about to give up and ask him what was wrong, Albus spoke.
“You always do that.”
“What is that?” She tried to figure out what he could mean, as he was not even looking in her direction when he spoke.
“When you are thinking about a problem you tap your fingertips against your wand. I first noticed it when you were a student and was pleased to find it was one of many habits you retained during your years spent away from Hogwarts.”
“Many habits, Albus?” She was more than a little shocked to realize he had noticed something so small and detailed about herself. Her parents had often teased her that she must hide all her answers within the dark wood. In actuality, she never realized she was tapping her wand until it was pointed out to her, but few besides her parents and Albus had ever done so.
“Yes, you also still prefer to wear trousers when riding a broom, take your tea with no sugar, and enjoy your scotch as a double, no ice.”
“Albus!” She was more than a bit outraged which probably had more to do with said scotch than any actual offense given or taken, especially as he was correct. “I would have never drank scotch as a student.”
“Ah, yes, that was the other thing I forgot. Your temper, my dear, has not lessened one iota.” He smiled, letting her know he was only teasing her.
“Well I am not the only one who has retained some interesting habits, Albus. Muggle sweets, more play than work, hot cocoa with two extra lumps of sugar, and a filing system that can only be described as complete chaos. Honestly I am amazed we have made it together this far.”
She smiled, giggling a bit as the adrenaline began to wear off and she felt the effects of the alcohol once more. By this time they had followed the path completely around the lake and were beginning on their second loop.
“You also always find a way to get directly to the heart of the matter, my dear, whether you know it or not.” He paused, but not long enough for her to form a response. “I asked you to walk with me so we could talk about just that.”
“You filing system?” Minerva knew she was being cheeky, but she was not following Albus’ line of logic and wished, not for the first or last time, that he would be more direct.
“Actually...” He trailed off as he stopped abruptly, turning towards her. Clearing his throat he started again. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about your unwanted admirers.”
“Admirers, Albus? Please don’t tell me there are two ‘Dent-head’ Macdonalds. I don’t think I could take it!”
He chuckled lightly, though it sounded forced. His cheeks were quite red and Minerva suddenly realized he was nervous. “Not another Magnus, my dear, but there is an Albus.”
“Albus?” The word rolled off her tongue, sounding foreign for the first time in years.
“Yes, if you’ll have me. I promise I will never...“
In years to come, when the story of that evening was told to friends, then children and even grandchildren, this moment of the story would always be a point of contention between the two. Albus would always claim it was his charm that made his wife interrupt him with a kiss, while Minerva would always claim it was a mixture of cheap scotch and Gryffindor bravery. Regardless of the cause of the interruption, they never knew what Albus was willing to promise never to do, for the moment Minerva’s soft lips touched his, every other thought except those of joy left his mind, for good.
Charms and Cheap Scotch
Raising her hand slightly to catch Aberforth’s attention, Minerva silently ordered yet another drink. She sipped the double scotch that instantly appeared before her, noting that she was now several ahead of her companions... not that she was surprised.
It had been Pomona’s idea to get out of the castle for the evening. She had insisted Minerva come along, that she had been “hiding from that prat long enough.” Minerva had disagreed with her friend’s take on the situation with her sometime-stalker who happened to live in Hogsmeade and frequented the Hog’s Head, but she had agreed that she needed a night out. Now, however, she was beginning to think she would have been better off sitting alone in her rooms nursing her own, higher quality, bottle of scotch.
Pomona sat to her left, going on and on about her prized fanged geraniums, a favorite topic when she was nervous. To Minerva’s right, Filius was busy hanging on Pomona’s every word, even as she told them for the third time about the process used to tame the little beasts. Minerva’s words, not Pomona’s: she had not yet forgiven them for taking a chunk out of her fur when she had been visiting the greenhouses that last week.
Minerva’s only hope of a conversation involving anything but geraniums for the evening sat on the other side of Pomona. His bearded chin rested on one hand as he absent-mindedly swirled his drink with the gummy worm Aberforth had used to garnish it. She wondered what he was drinking as he raised his hand, allowing the fluid to drip off the worm and back into the glass before eating the chewy candy. Another appeared over the top of the glass filled with some sort of pink concoction, and Albus began the process again. He seemed lost in deep thought and Minerva wished he would switch seats with Filius so they could all be sitting with whom they wanted.
Not that she wanted to sit with Albus. No, she was just worried about him. It had nothing to do with that fact that she was attracted to him and couldn’t help but wonder what those candy-coated lips would feel like against her own. That had absolutely nothing to do with it.
She giggled to herself, though none of her companions seemed to notice. Deciding she had either had too much scotch or too little, Minerva ordered another double and had just taken a sip, when he entered the pub.
He was Magnus Macdonald, not so fondly known as “Dent-head” by his many enemies and his friends, the few he had. He and Minerva had gone through Hogwarts together and had even played quidditch together on Gryffindor’s team, yet they had never been more than acquaintances. For whatever reason, she was never sure why exactly, he had decided at some point within the last year that they were meant to be together. She had put up with his owls and gifts of flowers and chocolates, but when he decided to move to Hogsmeade to “be nearer to his love” she knew she would have to be harsh. Unfortunately, whether it was due to his natural Scottish stubbornness or one too many bludgers to the head, Magnus refused to give up no matter how rude Minerva was, and she had been very rude.
As he walked up to the bar and stood between Minerva and Pomona, Minerva reflected that her friend might have been right, she probably had been hiding from this idiotic excuse for a man and with good reason. A large, greasy hand now rested on her waist and as she spun her stool around in outrage, even greasier lips met hers.
It took a few moments to process what had happened, but by they time her brain had caught up with the action, Magnus had already been forcibly removed from her person. Instead, he was facing a suddenly seething Albus Dumbledore.
Minerva looked from one to another, not sure what to do. Stopping Albus from killing the man was her first inclination, but she worried Magnus would take that as some sort of twisted sign of affection. While she had no doubts about Albus winning in any sort of fight with a “Dent-head,” she knew he would eventually feel guilty about using his obviously superior dueling skills against someone nearly unarmed with skill of any sort. She was still deciding on the proper action to take when the decision was made for her.
Magnus threw a hook, which Albus easily dodged, throwing Magnus off balance before hitting him with an uppercut to the stomach. Magnus fell to the ground, moaning as he clutched his stomach. He lay there only a moment before, in a display of magic that surprised Minerva though considering his job it shouldn’t have, Aberforth twitched his wand a few times, levitating Magnus out the door before dumping him on the sidewalk beyond.
The rest of the patrons seemed to not notice the disruption and paid no attention to the four Hogwarts staff members as they collected themselves.
When the fistfight had begun, Filius had jumped down from his stool, as they all had, and instinctively pulled his wand with one hand while positioning himself in front of the two women, but mainly Pomona, who had, just as instinctively, clung to him. The two were now, rather clumsily, talking about why she had clung to him and more importantly, why he had wrapped his arms around her when the fighting was done.
Thankful that all Magnus’ craziness might have done some good if her two friends finally admitted their feelings and she had to sit through fewer geranium conversations, Minerva turned to Albus, thanking him for coming to her rescue.
“I knew he was a... but I couldn’t have imagined... But thank you, Albus. I think I am finally rid of any unwanted admirers!”
At this, Albus’ previous glum mood seemed to return. His face settled into a frown and he seemed to almost blush a bit.
“About that, Minerva. Perhaps we could take a walk?”
Minerva smiled uneasily. She was suddenly sober from the adrenaline rush and now, once more, was wondering what could be bothering her friend. “Of course, Albus.” She turned to say goodbye to Pomona and Filius, only to find the two so engrossed in each other that they wouldn’t have noticed a three legged goat walk by, wearing a neon green and pink striped sign that read “Go Home” in large, flashing, purple script. And in fact, they hadn’t. Minerva still could not understand why Aberforth chose such an odd way of announcing last call, but she had accepted long ago that she would never completely understand the younger Dumbledore brother.
Albus tapped Filius on the shoulder to get his attention before letting them know that he was walking Minerva back to the castle. He made a point to ask Filius to make sure Pomona made it to bed safely, though, by the looks of things, Minerva was beginning to wonder whose bed that might be.
Moments later Albus and Minerva were walking down the well-traveled path that led to Hogwarts. It was not the first time in the course of their friendship that Minerva had found herself unable to read her former professor, but usually she had some idea what was going on in that handsome head of his. Tonight, she was at a loss and so she walked, silently by his side. They made it to Hogwarts and he seemed to hesitate inside the gates before leading them toward the lake.
As their walk continued along the shore, Minerva searched for something, anything, to say. Just as she was about to give up and ask him what was wrong, Albus spoke.
“You always do that.”
“What is that?” She tried to figure out what he could mean, as he was not even looking in her direction when he spoke.
“When you are thinking about a problem you tap your fingertips against your wand. I first noticed it when you were a student and was pleased to find it was one of many habits you retained during your years spent away from Hogwarts.”
“Many habits, Albus?” She was more than a little shocked to realize he had noticed something so small and detailed about herself. Her parents had often teased her that she must hide all her answers within the dark wood. In actuality, she never realized she was tapping her wand until it was pointed out to her, but few besides her parents and Albus had ever done so.
“Yes, you also still prefer to wear trousers when riding a broom, take your tea with no sugar, and enjoy your scotch as a double, no ice.”
“Albus!” She was more than a bit outraged which probably had more to do with said scotch than any actual offense given or taken, especially as he was correct. “I would have never drank scotch as a student.”
“Ah, yes, that was the other thing I forgot. Your temper, my dear, has not lessened one iota.” He smiled, letting her know he was only teasing her.
“Well I am not the only one who has retained some interesting habits, Albus. Muggle sweets, more play than work, hot cocoa with two extra lumps of sugar, and a filing system that can only be described as complete chaos. Honestly I am amazed we have made it together this far.”
She smiled, giggling a bit as the adrenaline began to wear off and she felt the effects of the alcohol once more. By this time they had followed the path completely around the lake and were beginning on their second loop.
“You also always find a way to get directly to the heart of the matter, my dear, whether you know it or not.” He paused, but not long enough for her to form a response. “I asked you to walk with me so we could talk about just that.”
“You filing system?” Minerva knew she was being cheeky, but she was not following Albus’ line of logic and wished, not for the first or last time, that he would be more direct.
“Actually...” He trailed off as he stopped abruptly, turning towards her. Clearing his throat he started again. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about your unwanted admirers.”
“Admirers, Albus? Please don’t tell me there are two ‘Dent-head’ Macdonalds. I don’t think I could take it!”
He chuckled lightly, though it sounded forced. His cheeks were quite red and Minerva suddenly realized he was nervous. “Not another Magnus, my dear, but there is an Albus.”
“Albus?” The word rolled off her tongue, sounding foreign for the first time in years.
“Yes, if you’ll have me. I promise I will never...“
In years to come, when the story of that evening was told to friends, then children and even grandchildren, this moment of the story would always be a point of contention between the two. Albus would always claim it was his charm that made his wife interrupt him with a kiss, while Minerva would always claim it was a mixture of cheap scotch and Gryffindor bravery. Regardless of the cause of the interruption, they never knew what Albus was willing to promise never to do, for the moment Minerva’s soft lips touched his, every other thought except those of joy left his mind, for good.
