Post by The Anglophile on Jul 1, 2007 21:38:12 GMT -5
A/N: Ha! I did angst! Sorry about the title, I'm horrible with titles.
“We have to end it.”
She propped herself up on one elbow and blinked at him, her lips parted slightly and her eyes glimmering oddly. She tried to remain composed, but he still noticed the quiver in her voice.
“Why?”
“Because I’m afraid for you,” he said hoarsely. “If anyone finds out, they’ll use you to get to me.”
“No one will find out,” she said quietly, trembling slightly.
“Please, Minerva, if anything happens to you, I will never forgive myself.
She blinked furiously, tears rolling silently down her cheeks.
“I understand.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“I know.”
A warm July breeze stirred the grass. The dark street was illuminated by a rather dodgy lamp post, its orange light flickering and stuttering. A grey tabby cat twisted around the pole, sauntered across the empty road, and stared at the small gap between houses eleven and thirteen. Another house, number twelve, began to fill the space, swelling gently and pushing aside its neighbours. The cat trotted quickly up the steps and scratched persistently at the door. A few moments later, it opened.
A short, plump woman stood in the doorway and stared out into the darkness for a second before looking down. The tabby gazed expectantly up at her.
“Oh, good evening, Minerva,” the woman said, stepping aside. The cat streaked past her into the hall. Before the door was bolted, the tabby had transformed smoothly into a tall, thin, and dark-haired woman.
“Hello, Molly,” she said a little breathlessly, pulling off her traveling cloak. “I’m sorry I’m so late, I couldn’t leave my post until Mundungus got there, and…well, you know how he is. Albus wanted me to get here tonight.”
“Did he?” Molly frowned a little. “The meeting’s not until tomorrow.”
“I’m sorry—He told me he was going to stagger arrivals to some degree so it doesn’t look suspicious,” Minerva explained, tucking a stray lock of black hair behind one ear. “I hope I’m not a bother.”
“Oh, no, of course not!” Molly assured her warmly. “I’m just surprised Dumbledore didn’t mention it. He’s here, you know.”
“Is he?” it was Minerva’s turn to be surprised.
“Yes, I am,” a male voice answered from the stairs. Both women wheeled around.
“Albus!” Minerva exclaimed. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t warn you,” he said as he stepped to the floor, his blue eyes twinkling. Minerva smiled a little, but noticed a weariness in his face.
“Would you like a cup of tea, Minerva?” Molly asked, tearing Minerva’s attention away from Albus. “You look exhausted.”
“Oh, that would be lovely, Molly.”
“Dumbledore?”
“Why not? I’m up now.”
They went into the kitchen and lapsed into a comfortable silence around their mugs.
“Mollywobbles…” a man sang in an affected tenor from the hall. Both Minerva and Albus looked wide-eyed at Molly, who blushed furiously. A red-haired man in a hand-knit dressing robe wandered into the kitchen. “Mollywobbles?” he was grinning widely and his smiled brightened when he noticed Albus and Minerva. “Oh, hello all!”
“Good evening, Arthur,” Albus said calmly. Minerva only smiled back, torn between feeling sorry for Molly, who was a brilliant shade of pink, and laughing about the endearment.
“Come and have some tea, Arthur,” Molly pulled him into a chair and got up to prepare his tea. Arthur was still beaming merrily at the others from behind his horn-rimmed spectacles, apparently oblivious to his wife’s embarrassment.
“What brings you here, Minerva?”
“I just got off duty,” she explained, “and we’re staggering arrivals for tomorrow’s meeting.”
“Ah,” Arthur nodded, his expression sobering. “How is Harry, then?”
“He spends a lot of his time walking around the neighbourhood,” Minerva shrugged. “Reasonably upset, I suppose.”
“He’ll understand soon,” Albus said quietly.
Molly set a mug on the table for Arthur and sat back down. Minerva was staring at Albus again, her brow drawn slightly. The weariness had returned to Albus’s eyes. Silence fell again, but it was much more grave than before.
“Oh, I can’t bear this,” Molly wailed. “I’m turning on the radio, music will cheer us up.” She drew her wand from her apron pocket and flicked it at the radio.
“—Warbeck for the next hour,” a sing-song voice was saying.
“Warbeck?” Molly’s head snapped up. “It must be Celestina Warbeck!”
She beamed at Arthur, who smiled back. Minerva looked briefly pained. A very trite, bouncing sort of song began. Albus glanced at Minerva to see her jaw twitch ever so slightly.
“Oh, Arthur, dance with me,” Molly leapt out of her chair and grabbed Arthur’s hand, pulling him out of his chair before he could refuse. They were soon laughing and wrapped up in each other’s company.
Minerva watched them, chewing her lower lip. Finally, she looked over at Albus.
“Are you alright?” she asked. He turned to her slowly, smiling faintly.
“I’m well enough,” he told her.
Minerva’s hands tightened around her mug. She was not reassured.
“Oh, come now, my dear, don’t worry so much,” he said softly.
“I might say the same to you,” Minerva said wryly. He chuckled a little, watching Molly and Arthur again.
“Dance with me?”
“What?” Minerva gave him an almost scandalised look.
“Dance with me,” Albus insisted, grinning.
“I don’t—” Minerva tried to argue, but Albus took her hand and nearly dragged her out of her seat. She glared half-heartedly at him as he placed his other hand on her waist and began to twirl her around the small space.
“It will cheer you up,” he told her.
“Oh, fine,” she laughed, shaking her head and putting her left hand on his shoulder. The upbeat song ended and an even sappier slow song started. Albus switched gears instantly, drawing her closer. Minerva couldn’t protest, her throat had constricted slightly. It took her a minute to overcome it.
“I’ve been thinking about the first war lately,” she said softly, “and everything that happened.”
Albus didn’t respond for a moment. He drew in a deep breath and held her a fraction of an inch closer. Molly and Arthur danced on the other side of the table, caught up in their own world.
“Have you?” he finally murmured.
Minerva hesitated, biting her lip again.
“Are you still afraid for me?”
“More than I can say.”
Minerva rested her head on Albus’s shoulder and they left it at that.
'Kay, so, I already apologised about the title and you're not allowed to yell at me about it. >_<
It'll Cheer You Up
“We have to end it.”
She propped herself up on one elbow and blinked at him, her lips parted slightly and her eyes glimmering oddly. She tried to remain composed, but he still noticed the quiver in her voice.
“Why?”
“Because I’m afraid for you,” he said hoarsely. “If anyone finds out, they’ll use you to get to me.”
“No one will find out,” she said quietly, trembling slightly.
“Please, Minerva, if anything happens to you, I will never forgive myself.
She blinked furiously, tears rolling silently down her cheeks.
“I understand.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“I know.”
A warm July breeze stirred the grass. The dark street was illuminated by a rather dodgy lamp post, its orange light flickering and stuttering. A grey tabby cat twisted around the pole, sauntered across the empty road, and stared at the small gap between houses eleven and thirteen. Another house, number twelve, began to fill the space, swelling gently and pushing aside its neighbours. The cat trotted quickly up the steps and scratched persistently at the door. A few moments later, it opened.
A short, plump woman stood in the doorway and stared out into the darkness for a second before looking down. The tabby gazed expectantly up at her.
“Oh, good evening, Minerva,” the woman said, stepping aside. The cat streaked past her into the hall. Before the door was bolted, the tabby had transformed smoothly into a tall, thin, and dark-haired woman.
“Hello, Molly,” she said a little breathlessly, pulling off her traveling cloak. “I’m sorry I’m so late, I couldn’t leave my post until Mundungus got there, and…well, you know how he is. Albus wanted me to get here tonight.”
“Did he?” Molly frowned a little. “The meeting’s not until tomorrow.”
“I’m sorry—He told me he was going to stagger arrivals to some degree so it doesn’t look suspicious,” Minerva explained, tucking a stray lock of black hair behind one ear. “I hope I’m not a bother.”
“Oh, no, of course not!” Molly assured her warmly. “I’m just surprised Dumbledore didn’t mention it. He’s here, you know.”
“Is he?” it was Minerva’s turn to be surprised.
“Yes, I am,” a male voice answered from the stairs. Both women wheeled around.
“Albus!” Minerva exclaimed. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t warn you,” he said as he stepped to the floor, his blue eyes twinkling. Minerva smiled a little, but noticed a weariness in his face.
“Would you like a cup of tea, Minerva?” Molly asked, tearing Minerva’s attention away from Albus. “You look exhausted.”
“Oh, that would be lovely, Molly.”
“Dumbledore?”
“Why not? I’m up now.”
They went into the kitchen and lapsed into a comfortable silence around their mugs.
“Mollywobbles…” a man sang in an affected tenor from the hall. Both Minerva and Albus looked wide-eyed at Molly, who blushed furiously. A red-haired man in a hand-knit dressing robe wandered into the kitchen. “Mollywobbles?” he was grinning widely and his smiled brightened when he noticed Albus and Minerva. “Oh, hello all!”
“Good evening, Arthur,” Albus said calmly. Minerva only smiled back, torn between feeling sorry for Molly, who was a brilliant shade of pink, and laughing about the endearment.
“Come and have some tea, Arthur,” Molly pulled him into a chair and got up to prepare his tea. Arthur was still beaming merrily at the others from behind his horn-rimmed spectacles, apparently oblivious to his wife’s embarrassment.
“What brings you here, Minerva?”
“I just got off duty,” she explained, “and we’re staggering arrivals for tomorrow’s meeting.”
“Ah,” Arthur nodded, his expression sobering. “How is Harry, then?”
“He spends a lot of his time walking around the neighbourhood,” Minerva shrugged. “Reasonably upset, I suppose.”
“He’ll understand soon,” Albus said quietly.
Molly set a mug on the table for Arthur and sat back down. Minerva was staring at Albus again, her brow drawn slightly. The weariness had returned to Albus’s eyes. Silence fell again, but it was much more grave than before.
“Oh, I can’t bear this,” Molly wailed. “I’m turning on the radio, music will cheer us up.” She drew her wand from her apron pocket and flicked it at the radio.
“—Warbeck for the next hour,” a sing-song voice was saying.
“Warbeck?” Molly’s head snapped up. “It must be Celestina Warbeck!”
She beamed at Arthur, who smiled back. Minerva looked briefly pained. A very trite, bouncing sort of song began. Albus glanced at Minerva to see her jaw twitch ever so slightly.
“Oh, Arthur, dance with me,” Molly leapt out of her chair and grabbed Arthur’s hand, pulling him out of his chair before he could refuse. They were soon laughing and wrapped up in each other’s company.
Minerva watched them, chewing her lower lip. Finally, she looked over at Albus.
“Are you alright?” she asked. He turned to her slowly, smiling faintly.
“I’m well enough,” he told her.
Minerva’s hands tightened around her mug. She was not reassured.
“Oh, come now, my dear, don’t worry so much,” he said softly.
“I might say the same to you,” Minerva said wryly. He chuckled a little, watching Molly and Arthur again.
“Dance with me?”
“What?” Minerva gave him an almost scandalised look.
“Dance with me,” Albus insisted, grinning.
“I don’t—” Minerva tried to argue, but Albus took her hand and nearly dragged her out of her seat. She glared half-heartedly at him as he placed his other hand on her waist and began to twirl her around the small space.
“It will cheer you up,” he told her.
“Oh, fine,” she laughed, shaking her head and putting her left hand on his shoulder. The upbeat song ended and an even sappier slow song started. Albus switched gears instantly, drawing her closer. Minerva couldn’t protest, her throat had constricted slightly. It took her a minute to overcome it.
“I’ve been thinking about the first war lately,” she said softly, “and everything that happened.”
Albus didn’t respond for a moment. He drew in a deep breath and held her a fraction of an inch closer. Molly and Arthur danced on the other side of the table, caught up in their own world.
“Have you?” he finally murmured.
Minerva hesitated, biting her lip again.
“Are you still afraid for me?”
“More than I can say.”
Minerva rested her head on Albus’s shoulder and they left it at that.
'Kay, so, I already apologised about the title and you're not allowed to yell at me about it. >_<
. Anyway, the point is this was so sad and sweet and all together wonderful. And I like the title, if it consoles you 
