Post by amandahleigh on Jul 18, 2005 0:37:57 GMT -5
This is the first fic I've decided to post on here, and I hope you like it. If you haven't read Half-Blood Prince, though, please please please do that first!
Thanks for reading. Now, my "official" disclaimer:
HP 6 SPOILER ALERT
WARNING!
This fic contains MEGA SPOILERS!
DO NOT READ if you have not finished the Half-Blood Prince!
You Have Been WARNED!
Oh, and uh, JK owns HP and all that...
Title: After the Half-Blood Prince
Summary: Um... After the sixth book, Minerva reacts to... what happened.
Rating: 12+
__ ___ __
"After The Half-Blood Prince."
ADMM
Quick Author’s Note:
1. In the book, when Minerva McGonagall and Harry go into the office, Dumbledore’s portrait is on the wall. We, for the sake of fiction, are going to pretend that those few lines on page 626 never happened. Okay? Okay.
Now for the story.
___ ___ ___
It was August second, at approximately 3:42 PM, when Minerva McGonagall decided it was time to clean out the Headmaster’s office. Of course she should be the one to do it, the staff decided shortly after the murder, she was his Deputy, his right hand, his friend.
But she was more than that. She was way more than that to him, and he meant far more to her than any boss, colleague or friend. And now he was gone.
She shuddered as she entered his office. "No," shethought regretfully, "I suppose it's my office now."
Though she knew that she had a job to do, she did not feel as if she belonged in that room at all, no matter who's office it technically was, notknowing that he would never again be in it with her. Never again would she interrupt his paperwork. Never again would she say “No, thank you,” when offered a Lemon Drop. Never again would they sit in these very chairs – she ran her hand over the fine wood back of one of them – and play a sporting good game of chess. She could feel the tears welling up in her eyes.
“Dammit, Albus!” She said aloud. “You were always so trusting…Always so…”
“Always so what, my dear?” A voice answered her, and she jumped. She knew that voice; knew it well, but how…?
“Albus? How…why…Are you a ghost?” She stammered, her green eyes darting around the room. Had she imagined the voice?
“No, you did not imagine my voice,” said he, and she gasped.
“The you really are…What? Albus?”
She heard him laugh, but still she saw no one. His voice seemed to be coming from a pile of boxes in one corner of the room, she had not noticed them before, but she was too shocked and afraid to move toward them.
“I have been waiting for you to come, Minerva.”
The tears she’d been holding back suddenly could not be stalled any longer, and sobbing she fell into the chair she used to frequently occupy during chess matches.
“Am I dying? Oh, Albus, we’ll be together again!”
“You are not dying, Minerva. You are very much alive, and you must promise me you’ll stay alive, if not for yourself and for the students and friends who love you, but for me. I’m not ready for you to join me beyond yet, my dear.”
Breathing deeply, she felt oddly calmer. His voice often had that effect on her, but usually the impact of his words was accompanied by his caring, twinkling blue eyes, comforting smile and strong, familiar arms wrapped around her…
“I really do not understand, Albus. I am not imaging you. You are not a ghost. I am not dying. Then how…?”
“Shall we give her a hit, everyone?” He asked, and Phineas replied with a snort.
“I always thought she was one of the smart ones,” he said, roiling his eyes.
“You’re a…Your portrait? You’re a portrait! Oh, Albus, but where…?”
“Oho!” said he, and she smiled for the first time in Merlin-only-knows how long. “Took you long enough, now would you be ever so kind as to get these boxes away from me? I’ve had the most unpleasant view for weeks now.
“Oh, Albus!” Minerva jumped up from her seat and unceremoniously pulled the boxes away from the wall, to reveal the portrait of Albus leaning against said wall.
“Hello again, Minerva,” he said, smiling at her.
Her eyes welled with tears again and she lightly ran her fingers down the right side of the painting. “Hello, again, Albus.”
“Do me a favor and hang me up, Min?” he requested, and she nodded. After the portrait was in its rightful place on the wall she stood back to take in the sight.
“I can’t tell you how much I’ve missed you, Albus Dumbledore,” said she, wiping away the last of her tears.
“And I, you!" said he. "Tell me, how is Harry doing? And the Weasley's, is everyone alright? And Miss Granger...All the students...Did anyone else, the Dark Mark...Have you heard anything about Draco Malfoy, or..."
"Please, Albus! One thing at a time!" she laughed, rolling her eyes at him. "Sometime you are so like a child, Albus! You forget how old..." Her voice trailed off, as her smile disapeared.
"Ah, but I will age no longer, Minerva. Do not look so very distraught, it might be better this way. Think of it, eventually, you will surpass me in age. And you will no longer be able to call me a miserable old coot, for I can retort, "Miserable, perhaps, but not as old as you, Minerva!"
"Always looking for the bright side, are you Albus?" She turned the chair around and sat, facing him. It was just like having one of their frequent, regular conversations. How she had missed this! They might even be able to play chess again, she could move his pawns for him...
"But you'll cheat." said he, and her eyes widened. "You can still...even without being..."
"No," he answered her unasked question. "But I saw you looking from me to the chess board."
"I will have to watch myself around you, Albus Dumbledore. You know me too well."
He laughed and replied in a slighlty suggestive tone, "Indeed, I do."
"Stop it, you! You're making me blush!" A knock in the dorr interrupted them then, and both sighed.
"How many times have we been interrupted bysomeone knocking on the door?" asked he, remembering a couple of particular times long ago when interruption had been most...inopprtune.
Her voice was soft as she, too, recalled those instances. "Too many times, you miserable old coot," she replied lightly, with a chuckle. The person or persons in the hall knocked again.
"You had better get that," said Albus, and Minerva stood to do so. But before she did, he called her back.
"Minerva McGonagall," he said, smiling at her. "I love you.”
She nodded and stepped closer to the portrait, ignoring the eyes, whistles and grins of the other former heads of Hogwarts. And in a whisper she answered, “I love you too, Albus.”
END
Thanks for reading. Now, my "official" disclaimer:
HP 6 SPOILER ALERT
WARNING!
This fic contains MEGA SPOILERS!
DO NOT READ if you have not finished the Half-Blood Prince!
You Have Been WARNED!
Oh, and uh, JK owns HP and all that...
Title: After the Half-Blood Prince
Summary: Um... After the sixth book, Minerva reacts to... what happened.
Rating: 12+
__ ___ __
"After The Half-Blood Prince."
ADMM
Quick Author’s Note:
1. In the book, when Minerva McGonagall and Harry go into the office, Dumbledore’s portrait is on the wall. We, for the sake of fiction, are going to pretend that those few lines on page 626 never happened. Okay? Okay.
Now for the story.
___ ___ ___
It was August second, at approximately 3:42 PM, when Minerva McGonagall decided it was time to clean out the Headmaster’s office. Of course she should be the one to do it, the staff decided shortly after the murder, she was his Deputy, his right hand, his friend.
But she was more than that. She was way more than that to him, and he meant far more to her than any boss, colleague or friend. And now he was gone.
She shuddered as she entered his office. "No," shethought regretfully, "I suppose it's my office now."
Though she knew that she had a job to do, she did not feel as if she belonged in that room at all, no matter who's office it technically was, notknowing that he would never again be in it with her. Never again would she interrupt his paperwork. Never again would she say “No, thank you,” when offered a Lemon Drop. Never again would they sit in these very chairs – she ran her hand over the fine wood back of one of them – and play a sporting good game of chess. She could feel the tears welling up in her eyes.
“Dammit, Albus!” She said aloud. “You were always so trusting…Always so…”
“Always so what, my dear?” A voice answered her, and she jumped. She knew that voice; knew it well, but how…?
“Albus? How…why…Are you a ghost?” She stammered, her green eyes darting around the room. Had she imagined the voice?
“No, you did not imagine my voice,” said he, and she gasped.
“The you really are…What? Albus?”
She heard him laugh, but still she saw no one. His voice seemed to be coming from a pile of boxes in one corner of the room, she had not noticed them before, but she was too shocked and afraid to move toward them.
“I have been waiting for you to come, Minerva.”
The tears she’d been holding back suddenly could not be stalled any longer, and sobbing she fell into the chair she used to frequently occupy during chess matches.
“Am I dying? Oh, Albus, we’ll be together again!”
“You are not dying, Minerva. You are very much alive, and you must promise me you’ll stay alive, if not for yourself and for the students and friends who love you, but for me. I’m not ready for you to join me beyond yet, my dear.”
Breathing deeply, she felt oddly calmer. His voice often had that effect on her, but usually the impact of his words was accompanied by his caring, twinkling blue eyes, comforting smile and strong, familiar arms wrapped around her…
“I really do not understand, Albus. I am not imaging you. You are not a ghost. I am not dying. Then how…?”
“Shall we give her a hit, everyone?” He asked, and Phineas replied with a snort.
“I always thought she was one of the smart ones,” he said, roiling his eyes.
“You’re a…Your portrait? You’re a portrait! Oh, Albus, but where…?”
“Oho!” said he, and she smiled for the first time in Merlin-only-knows how long. “Took you long enough, now would you be ever so kind as to get these boxes away from me? I’ve had the most unpleasant view for weeks now.
“Oh, Albus!” Minerva jumped up from her seat and unceremoniously pulled the boxes away from the wall, to reveal the portrait of Albus leaning against said wall.
“Hello again, Minerva,” he said, smiling at her.
Her eyes welled with tears again and she lightly ran her fingers down the right side of the painting. “Hello, again, Albus.”
“Do me a favor and hang me up, Min?” he requested, and she nodded. After the portrait was in its rightful place on the wall she stood back to take in the sight.
“I can’t tell you how much I’ve missed you, Albus Dumbledore,” said she, wiping away the last of her tears.
“And I, you!" said he. "Tell me, how is Harry doing? And the Weasley's, is everyone alright? And Miss Granger...All the students...Did anyone else, the Dark Mark...Have you heard anything about Draco Malfoy, or..."
"Please, Albus! One thing at a time!" she laughed, rolling her eyes at him. "Sometime you are so like a child, Albus! You forget how old..." Her voice trailed off, as her smile disapeared.
"Ah, but I will age no longer, Minerva. Do not look so very distraught, it might be better this way. Think of it, eventually, you will surpass me in age. And you will no longer be able to call me a miserable old coot, for I can retort, "Miserable, perhaps, but not as old as you, Minerva!"
"Always looking for the bright side, are you Albus?" She turned the chair around and sat, facing him. It was just like having one of their frequent, regular conversations. How she had missed this! They might even be able to play chess again, she could move his pawns for him...
"But you'll cheat." said he, and her eyes widened. "You can still...even without being..."
"No," he answered her unasked question. "But I saw you looking from me to the chess board."
"I will have to watch myself around you, Albus Dumbledore. You know me too well."
He laughed and replied in a slighlty suggestive tone, "Indeed, I do."
"Stop it, you! You're making me blush!" A knock in the dorr interrupted them then, and both sighed.
"How many times have we been interrupted bysomeone knocking on the door?" asked he, remembering a couple of particular times long ago when interruption had been most...inopprtune.
Her voice was soft as she, too, recalled those instances. "Too many times, you miserable old coot," she replied lightly, with a chuckle. The person or persons in the hall knocked again.
"You had better get that," said Albus, and Minerva stood to do so. But before she did, he called her back.
"Minerva McGonagall," he said, smiling at her. "I love you.”
She nodded and stepped closer to the portrait, ignoring the eyes, whistles and grins of the other former heads of Hogwarts. And in a whisper she answered, “I love you too, Albus.”
END
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