Post by romangoddess on Jun 23, 2008 9:51:23 GMT -5
A/N: I’ve been gone for a bit, but MMADfan’s epic Resolving a Misunderstanding brought me out of my funk and made me want to write for the first time in years. So, here’s a story inspired by the musical Calamity Jane that has been floating around half-formed in my mind for years.
This story takes place in 1960. I’ve played with Minerva and Albus’s ages a little bit, I figure that if JKR can do it, why can’t I?
Summary: Albus and Minerva are best friends. He’s only ever seen her as a friend, a brain, a shoulder to lean on, but that’s all about to change with a little help from his friends, and the Ministry’s annual midsummer ball.
Rating: 13 and up
Title: So Blind
Chapter 1
Minerva’s Musings
Minerva smiled slightly as she moved her rook, not because she had just secured herself an eventual victory, but because this was her favorite part of the game. She loved the moment just after she had finished her move, because it meant that her competitor’s attention would be focused entirely upon the chessboard, and she could steal a few moments to watch him. Minerva loved moments like this, when she could watch Albus completely undisturbed, his blue eyes piercing the board as he studied his next move, seeming to burn even the marble of his white chessmen. How Minerva wished that his eyes would bore into hers with that same fire and intensity
She had loved Albus since she’d first met him, and yet he thought of her solely as a brain, a confidant, a shoulder to lean on, a reliable ear, and worst of all, that dreaded word, a friend. He could never love her as she loved him. Merlin He didn’t even see her as a woman. Not that she could blame him. She was never exactly pretty. She was tall and gawky with large breasts, child-bearing hips, harsh grey eyes, and morbid black hair. She had never dressed like the other girls or concerned herself with her appearance. She had been far too concerned with her course work. Not that she regretted it, though, Minerva mused as she watched Albus rub his chin, that was how she’d met Albus after all.
Minerva remembered it vividly even though it had been almost ten years ago. It was the fall of 1950, Albus had read one of her article’s on the practical applications of inorganic-organic transfigurations during the summer, and he had been so impressed by her article that he had asked his friends to find out what he could about her, and had then proceeded to read all of her books, even her proof on the multi-animal potential for the animagus. After reading her books, he had his friends track her down. He eventually found her through a friend who had a child who attended L’ Academie de La Magie in Lyons, France, a wizarding university where she was a professor of transfiguration. He had called her and asked her to give him her opinion on an article that he’d written, and they found that the worked together so well that they decided to collaborate on a book on the application of particle theory to advanced transfiguration. That book lead to more collaborations, and eventually a close-knit friendship. Albus began to rely heavily upon Minerva and Minerva’s attraction to Albus began to turn into love, the most destructive love in the world, unrequited love.
Even as they became closer and began to spend more and more time together, Minerva managed to keep her love of Albus at bay. They lived in two different countries, and she knew that he could never love her, she was happy just being his friend. Then, in the winter of 1955, Minerva’s life changed forever, the headmaster, Armando Dippet, died suddenly and Albus became the headmaster, leaving the post of transfigurations professor open, and Albus knew of only one person capable of filling his shoes, Minerva McGonagall.
Minerva became the transfigurations professor, the head of Gryffindor house and the deputy headmistress all at once. It was a wonderful time and a terrible time for Minerva, to be so close to Albus and yet so far away. They spent so much time together, and they behaved like a couple, they attended conferences, dinners and balls together, and yet, despite Albus’s reputation as a playboy, no one ever once linked them romantically in a tabloid or a newspaper. Minerva knew that it shouldn’t bother her, but she also knew that the only reason that the papers didn’t connect them was that everyone knew she wasn’t Albus’s type, and that hurt. He always dated dim, curvaceous, petite, beautiful, desirable women, and none of them were ever very permanent. She just wasn’t his type, as much as she wanted to be.
Albus leaned back in his chair, and stretched his arms. Minerva pulled herself out of her reverie, she knew that he’d decided on his next move.
Chapter 2
An Unexpected Visitor
Albus smiled to himself as he bounded up the stairs toward Minerva’s rooms. He was looking forward to meeting his old friend for lunch. He loved the summers. Since Minerva had moved into the castle, they had a few months completely to themselves. They could walk in the gardens, work on lesson plans, and play chess at leisure. It was just the two of them. That was Albus’s favorite thing about Minerva, just spending time together as friends.
Minerva was brilliant and witty and funny. She always had some small insightful comment that would make him laugh. Just the other day they had been taking a stroll through the gardens, when Albus had commented on the beauty of a flower, and without batting an eyelash Minerva had commented that flowers were one thing that men and women viewed entirely differently. When Albus had asked her what she meant, she said simply that men think about giving flowers while women think about receiving them. It was such an obvious comment, and yet it was profoundly true. Men did think about flowers in terms of beauty and what they would mean to the woman who received them, and women he supposed thought about wanting to receive flowers from the men that they loved, and also about wanting to be able to have the flowers last and smell pretty, since they would actually have to live with them, whereas the men would possess them for a much briefer period of time.
That was one of the first times that it had really occurred to Albus that he and Minerva were different. He had always thought of her as his equal. A person with a brilliant mind and a clever tongue, but during the course of that conversation something else had become clear to Albus. Minerva was a woman, and as such there were certain things that they would just never view in the same light.
Albus was so lost in his thoughts about Minerva’s philosophy of flowers, as he bounded up the stairs, that he did not hear someone coming around the turn down the stairs in the other direction, and as such he ran smack into a rather shorter and plumper figure.
“So sorry, Albus. I’m afraid I wasn’t watching where I was going.” sputtered a slightly disheveled Horace Slughorn.
“It’s alright, Horace. I wasn’t paying much attention either.” Albus said with a smile. Suddenly it registered in Albus’s mind that Horace had gone home for the summer. Had he returned to see him? It would be unfortunate to have to break his lunch with Minerva in order to visit with Horace. “What brings you back to the castle?” Albus asked Horace.
“Oh, I just stopped by to see Minerva.” Horace said dropping his gaze to the floor.
Stopped by to see Minerva? What on earth could Horace want with Minerva?
“I wanted to ask her if she would accompany me to the Ministry’s annual midsummer night’s ball.” Horace’s cheeks took on a faint pink hue, and he dropped his gaze to the floor again.
Albus inwardly released a breath that he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. She must have turned him down. He and Minerva always attended the ball together. Horace must just not have noticed that it was tradition. Poor bloke He was probably just trying to secure himself a powerful date. Horace was power hungry, and Minerva was a very powerful witch. “Sorry, old chap. I know that you must be disappointed, but I’m sure that you’ll be able to find someone else to go with.” Albus said to Horace, trying to keep a smile from creeping onto his face.
“What ? ” Horace asked sputtering like a tea kettle. “You must be mistaken. Minerva’s agreed to go with me.”
Suddenly a lead weight dropped into the pit of Albus’s stomach. His throat tightened, and his face seemed to freeze. “Well, I’m sure you two will have a wonderful time together.” Albus managed to choke out.
“I’m sure we will. Minerva’s a lovely woman. Well, I’d better be going. I’ve got a lunch meeting with no less than three members of the Ministry. I’ll see you soon, Albus.” With that Horace pushed past Albus and headed down the stairs.
“Pompous ass ” Albus muttered under his breath. What did he want with Minerva? Why would he ask her of all witches? What did he mean she was a lovely witch? Did Horace have feelings for Minerva? No, that was impossible...or was it? “Damn ” Albus swore under his breath. Why did he care? Why shouldn’t Horace go with Minerva? Because he was supposed to go with Minerva, he answered silently. They always went everywhere together. She was much more interesting than his dates, and he was sure that he was more interesting than Horace Slughorn. His shoulders slumped as he began to continue his trek up the stairs this time at an amble.
Chapter 3
Albus’s Musings
As Albus continued his slow trek up the stairs, he continued to ponder why Horace would ask Minerva to go to the ball with him. It wasn’t as if Minerva was beautiful, or lovely, as Horace had put it, Albus added bitterly. At least he’d never thought of her that way. He supposed she had some charms, her eyes were bright and her features were not un-fair, but she was his Minerva, his best-friend, not Horace’s.
That was what truly bothered him. They always went together. Why would she agree to go with Horace? What if she was in love with him? The image made him laugh. Minerva, his smart, funny Minerva in love with Horace Slughorn. It was comical.
And Horace, what was Horace thinking asking his Minerva to the ball? He should know better. He’d worked at the castle long enough to know not to try to come between the headmaster and his deputy and best friend. Why would Horace do that? Could he truly be attracted to Minerva? It was impossible. Minerva wasn’t attractive...and yet, what if she was attractive, and Horace thought so and everyone thought so except for him? No, that was silly...or was it? Memories began to flow unbidden into Albus’s mind.
There was the time years ago, before Armando’s death, when he had commented on Albus’s relationship with Minerva and the amount of time that they spent together. Albus had managed to assure him that they were only friends, that he would never think of Minerva like that. She wasn’t that sort of woman. They were friends. She was his equal. She was a buddy, a pal. Armando had commented that none of his friends had figures like Minerva’s or such lovely features. Albus had laughed it off as a joke at the time, but what if it wasn’t a joke? What if Armando really thought that Minerva was beautiful?
Then he remembered the time, right after Minerva began teaching, when he had caught two Gryffindors walking through the corridors talking about their new head of house’s ample curves, and how they wished they’d taken their NEWTS in Transfiguration. He had escorted them both to his office, given them each a week’s worth of detentions and taken fifty house points from each of them. In retrospect, it may have been a tad harsh.
Then he remembered the time that he and Minerva had been staying at the castle for the summer, around 1957, and they had traveled into Hogsmeade for the afternoon. They had gone to get ice cream, and were walking down the street when they ran into Albus’s brother Aberforth. Albus had introduced Minerva and Aberforth, and Minerva excused herself to go run an errand. After Minerva left, Aberforth gestured to a bench and they sat down.
“So, brother,” Aberforth asked “that’s the women you write all those books with?”
“Why, yes. Minerva and I are partners.”
“In what capacity?” Aberforth asked with a slight smirk.
“What do you mean?” Albus asked.
“Just that you two probably had some entertaining moments between chapters...”
“Oh, you mean like two characters in a novel, who are perceived in one light by the protagonist, and therefore only seen in one way, but they do a lot of things between the chapters.” Albus said with a smile. “Yes, we are a bit like that. We played a lot of chess during our breaks.”
“Is that what they’re calling it now?” Aberforth asked with a smirk. “I know I’d sure like to play a lot of chess with her.” Aberforth said raising his eyebrow.
Albus didn’t have time to respond, however, as Minerva had returned with a box of Ginger Newts and a bag of Lemon Drops for him.
Albus sighed as he stood outside Minerva’s door. There was no point pondering it further. It was as it was, Minerva would be attending the ball with Slughorn, and he would just have to find himself a real date.
Chapter 4
Meeting with Minerva
Albus hesitated before knocking on Minerva’s door. What was wrong with him? This was his Minerva. Nothing had changed, even if she was going to the ball with Slughorn.
Albus knocked once, and Minerva called for him to enter, as always. She was arranging berries and cream, and french toast on her living room table. She smiled up at him as he entered.
“Hello, Albus. How has your day been?” She asked with a smile that seemed to light up the room and ease his fears.
“My morning’s been fine. I had some business to attend to this morning at the Ministry, but the meeting was almost endurable. How has your morning been?” He asked calmly, anticipating her response.
“Fine. I answered my correspondence, and yours as well, and then I spent some time doing a crossword puzzle from the Prophet. Nothing out of the usual.”
Albus frowned, she hadn’t mentioned Horace. What did that mean? He sat down at the table. “This isn’t a very typical Minerva McGonagall lunch.” Albus said with a smile.
“No, well, I know that French toast is one of your favorites, and you should eat more fruit, so I thought we’d have a bit of a breakfast-themed lunch. Merlin knows you’ve endured an awful lot of fish on my account.”
“Well, what else can one expect when one is dining with a cat?” Albus asked with a raised eyebrow, and Minerva swatted him playfully.
They fell into a companionable silence, as Albus load his plate with French toast, and slathered the toast with syrup, honey, sugar and cinnamon, and then prepared a plate for Minerva with one piece of French toast covered in a bit of honey and some ginger...just the way she liked it. Minerva scooped berries into Albus’s bowl and then covered them in gobs of cream, and then dusted them with sugar, since she knew that that was how he liked them, then she fixed herself a small bowl sans cream and sugar. She then fixed Albus a cup of hot cocoa and poured herself a cup of tea.
As they began to eat, Albus stole a few furtive glances at Minerva. How should he approach the Horace question? Minerva hadn’t mentioned it...and she wasn’t behaving any differently than she usually did. Shouldn’t she be giddy or beaming or something, if she were in love with Horace? How to broach the question?
Albus put a piece of toast in his mouth, and then, as he cut his next piece, he said, “So, I ran into Horace this morning...” he never lifted his eyes from his plate as he let the unspoken question drag in the air.
Minerva blushed as she scooped her berries, eyes downcast, “Oh, ah, yes, Horace stopped by this morning. He, um, he asked if I’d, um, accompany him to the ball, and, um, I agreed to go.”
It took all of Albus’s willpower to smile, despite the fact that his last hope was gone, she had agreed to go with Horace, and she had blushed at the mention of his name. He would just have to find someone else to go with. Why should it matter to him if she went with Horace anyway? They were just friends. He had no rights over her...no control of her.
“Well, that’s good. I’m sure you too will have a good time.” Albus said with a carefree lightness that he didn’t feel.
Minerva’s heart plummeted. She would have ditched Horace in a moment, if Albus would just have asked her to go. In all the years she’d known him, he had never asked her to go with him to a ball. They had just gone together as friends, it was expected. Was it so wrong to want to be asked? To want to be treated like a woman?
She smiled, even as her heart was crushed and bruised, “Yes, I’m sure we will.”
Suddenly, seeing how happy she seemed about going with Horace, a possessive streak overcame Albus. She was his Minerva. His best friend. “I ran into Nicholas this morning at the Ministry.”
“Oh,” Minerva said casually, looking up, as she spooned her berries.
“He invited me to dinner tonight.”
“Oh, so you won’t be in the castle tonight.” Minerva said, trying not to let the sound of disappointment creep into her voice. “Don’t worry. I’ll watch the castle.”
“No, Minerva,” Albus said shaking his head, “I want you to come with me.”
Minerva looked up suddenly, confusion in her eyes, “You want me to come with you?”
He nodded and smiled, “We’ve been friends for years, and you’ve never met them. It’s about time that they meet my best friend.”
His words cut Minerva like a night, but she smiled in spite of herself, “That sounds lovely.”
This story takes place in 1960. I’ve played with Minerva and Albus’s ages a little bit, I figure that if JKR can do it, why can’t I?
Summary: Albus and Minerva are best friends. He’s only ever seen her as a friend, a brain, a shoulder to lean on, but that’s all about to change with a little help from his friends, and the Ministry’s annual midsummer ball.
Rating: 13 and up
Title: So Blind
Chapter 1
Minerva’s Musings
Minerva smiled slightly as she moved her rook, not because she had just secured herself an eventual victory, but because this was her favorite part of the game. She loved the moment just after she had finished her move, because it meant that her competitor’s attention would be focused entirely upon the chessboard, and she could steal a few moments to watch him. Minerva loved moments like this, when she could watch Albus completely undisturbed, his blue eyes piercing the board as he studied his next move, seeming to burn even the marble of his white chessmen. How Minerva wished that his eyes would bore into hers with that same fire and intensity
She had loved Albus since she’d first met him, and yet he thought of her solely as a brain, a confidant, a shoulder to lean on, a reliable ear, and worst of all, that dreaded word, a friend. He could never love her as she loved him. Merlin He didn’t even see her as a woman. Not that she could blame him. She was never exactly pretty. She was tall and gawky with large breasts, child-bearing hips, harsh grey eyes, and morbid black hair. She had never dressed like the other girls or concerned herself with her appearance. She had been far too concerned with her course work. Not that she regretted it, though, Minerva mused as she watched Albus rub his chin, that was how she’d met Albus after all.
Minerva remembered it vividly even though it had been almost ten years ago. It was the fall of 1950, Albus had read one of her article’s on the practical applications of inorganic-organic transfigurations during the summer, and he had been so impressed by her article that he had asked his friends to find out what he could about her, and had then proceeded to read all of her books, even her proof on the multi-animal potential for the animagus. After reading her books, he had his friends track her down. He eventually found her through a friend who had a child who attended L’ Academie de La Magie in Lyons, France, a wizarding university where she was a professor of transfiguration. He had called her and asked her to give him her opinion on an article that he’d written, and they found that the worked together so well that they decided to collaborate on a book on the application of particle theory to advanced transfiguration. That book lead to more collaborations, and eventually a close-knit friendship. Albus began to rely heavily upon Minerva and Minerva’s attraction to Albus began to turn into love, the most destructive love in the world, unrequited love.
Even as they became closer and began to spend more and more time together, Minerva managed to keep her love of Albus at bay. They lived in two different countries, and she knew that he could never love her, she was happy just being his friend. Then, in the winter of 1955, Minerva’s life changed forever, the headmaster, Armando Dippet, died suddenly and Albus became the headmaster, leaving the post of transfigurations professor open, and Albus knew of only one person capable of filling his shoes, Minerva McGonagall.
Minerva became the transfigurations professor, the head of Gryffindor house and the deputy headmistress all at once. It was a wonderful time and a terrible time for Minerva, to be so close to Albus and yet so far away. They spent so much time together, and they behaved like a couple, they attended conferences, dinners and balls together, and yet, despite Albus’s reputation as a playboy, no one ever once linked them romantically in a tabloid or a newspaper. Minerva knew that it shouldn’t bother her, but she also knew that the only reason that the papers didn’t connect them was that everyone knew she wasn’t Albus’s type, and that hurt. He always dated dim, curvaceous, petite, beautiful, desirable women, and none of them were ever very permanent. She just wasn’t his type, as much as she wanted to be.
Albus leaned back in his chair, and stretched his arms. Minerva pulled herself out of her reverie, she knew that he’d decided on his next move.
Chapter 2
An Unexpected Visitor
Albus smiled to himself as he bounded up the stairs toward Minerva’s rooms. He was looking forward to meeting his old friend for lunch. He loved the summers. Since Minerva had moved into the castle, they had a few months completely to themselves. They could walk in the gardens, work on lesson plans, and play chess at leisure. It was just the two of them. That was Albus’s favorite thing about Minerva, just spending time together as friends.
Minerva was brilliant and witty and funny. She always had some small insightful comment that would make him laugh. Just the other day they had been taking a stroll through the gardens, when Albus had commented on the beauty of a flower, and without batting an eyelash Minerva had commented that flowers were one thing that men and women viewed entirely differently. When Albus had asked her what she meant, she said simply that men think about giving flowers while women think about receiving them. It was such an obvious comment, and yet it was profoundly true. Men did think about flowers in terms of beauty and what they would mean to the woman who received them, and women he supposed thought about wanting to receive flowers from the men that they loved, and also about wanting to be able to have the flowers last and smell pretty, since they would actually have to live with them, whereas the men would possess them for a much briefer period of time.
That was one of the first times that it had really occurred to Albus that he and Minerva were different. He had always thought of her as his equal. A person with a brilliant mind and a clever tongue, but during the course of that conversation something else had become clear to Albus. Minerva was a woman, and as such there were certain things that they would just never view in the same light.
Albus was so lost in his thoughts about Minerva’s philosophy of flowers, as he bounded up the stairs, that he did not hear someone coming around the turn down the stairs in the other direction, and as such he ran smack into a rather shorter and plumper figure.
“So sorry, Albus. I’m afraid I wasn’t watching where I was going.” sputtered a slightly disheveled Horace Slughorn.
“It’s alright, Horace. I wasn’t paying much attention either.” Albus said with a smile. Suddenly it registered in Albus’s mind that Horace had gone home for the summer. Had he returned to see him? It would be unfortunate to have to break his lunch with Minerva in order to visit with Horace. “What brings you back to the castle?” Albus asked Horace.
“Oh, I just stopped by to see Minerva.” Horace said dropping his gaze to the floor.
Stopped by to see Minerva? What on earth could Horace want with Minerva?
“I wanted to ask her if she would accompany me to the Ministry’s annual midsummer night’s ball.” Horace’s cheeks took on a faint pink hue, and he dropped his gaze to the floor again.
Albus inwardly released a breath that he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. She must have turned him down. He and Minerva always attended the ball together. Horace must just not have noticed that it was tradition. Poor bloke He was probably just trying to secure himself a powerful date. Horace was power hungry, and Minerva was a very powerful witch. “Sorry, old chap. I know that you must be disappointed, but I’m sure that you’ll be able to find someone else to go with.” Albus said to Horace, trying to keep a smile from creeping onto his face.
“What ? ” Horace asked sputtering like a tea kettle. “You must be mistaken. Minerva’s agreed to go with me.”
Suddenly a lead weight dropped into the pit of Albus’s stomach. His throat tightened, and his face seemed to freeze. “Well, I’m sure you two will have a wonderful time together.” Albus managed to choke out.
“I’m sure we will. Minerva’s a lovely woman. Well, I’d better be going. I’ve got a lunch meeting with no less than three members of the Ministry. I’ll see you soon, Albus.” With that Horace pushed past Albus and headed down the stairs.
“Pompous ass ” Albus muttered under his breath. What did he want with Minerva? Why would he ask her of all witches? What did he mean she was a lovely witch? Did Horace have feelings for Minerva? No, that was impossible...or was it? “Damn ” Albus swore under his breath. Why did he care? Why shouldn’t Horace go with Minerva? Because he was supposed to go with Minerva, he answered silently. They always went everywhere together. She was much more interesting than his dates, and he was sure that he was more interesting than Horace Slughorn. His shoulders slumped as he began to continue his trek up the stairs this time at an amble.
Chapter 3
Albus’s Musings
As Albus continued his slow trek up the stairs, he continued to ponder why Horace would ask Minerva to go to the ball with him. It wasn’t as if Minerva was beautiful, or lovely, as Horace had put it, Albus added bitterly. At least he’d never thought of her that way. He supposed she had some charms, her eyes were bright and her features were not un-fair, but she was his Minerva, his best-friend, not Horace’s.
That was what truly bothered him. They always went together. Why would she agree to go with Horace? What if she was in love with him? The image made him laugh. Minerva, his smart, funny Minerva in love with Horace Slughorn. It was comical.
And Horace, what was Horace thinking asking his Minerva to the ball? He should know better. He’d worked at the castle long enough to know not to try to come between the headmaster and his deputy and best friend. Why would Horace do that? Could he truly be attracted to Minerva? It was impossible. Minerva wasn’t attractive...and yet, what if she was attractive, and Horace thought so and everyone thought so except for him? No, that was silly...or was it? Memories began to flow unbidden into Albus’s mind.
There was the time years ago, before Armando’s death, when he had commented on Albus’s relationship with Minerva and the amount of time that they spent together. Albus had managed to assure him that they were only friends, that he would never think of Minerva like that. She wasn’t that sort of woman. They were friends. She was his equal. She was a buddy, a pal. Armando had commented that none of his friends had figures like Minerva’s or such lovely features. Albus had laughed it off as a joke at the time, but what if it wasn’t a joke? What if Armando really thought that Minerva was beautiful?
Then he remembered the time, right after Minerva began teaching, when he had caught two Gryffindors walking through the corridors talking about their new head of house’s ample curves, and how they wished they’d taken their NEWTS in Transfiguration. He had escorted them both to his office, given them each a week’s worth of detentions and taken fifty house points from each of them. In retrospect, it may have been a tad harsh.
Then he remembered the time that he and Minerva had been staying at the castle for the summer, around 1957, and they had traveled into Hogsmeade for the afternoon. They had gone to get ice cream, and were walking down the street when they ran into Albus’s brother Aberforth. Albus had introduced Minerva and Aberforth, and Minerva excused herself to go run an errand. After Minerva left, Aberforth gestured to a bench and they sat down.
“So, brother,” Aberforth asked “that’s the women you write all those books with?”
“Why, yes. Minerva and I are partners.”
“In what capacity?” Aberforth asked with a slight smirk.
“What do you mean?” Albus asked.
“Just that you two probably had some entertaining moments between chapters...”
“Oh, you mean like two characters in a novel, who are perceived in one light by the protagonist, and therefore only seen in one way, but they do a lot of things between the chapters.” Albus said with a smile. “Yes, we are a bit like that. We played a lot of chess during our breaks.”
“Is that what they’re calling it now?” Aberforth asked with a smirk. “I know I’d sure like to play a lot of chess with her.” Aberforth said raising his eyebrow.
Albus didn’t have time to respond, however, as Minerva had returned with a box of Ginger Newts and a bag of Lemon Drops for him.
Albus sighed as he stood outside Minerva’s door. There was no point pondering it further. It was as it was, Minerva would be attending the ball with Slughorn, and he would just have to find himself a real date.
Chapter 4
Meeting with Minerva
Albus hesitated before knocking on Minerva’s door. What was wrong with him? This was his Minerva. Nothing had changed, even if she was going to the ball with Slughorn.
Albus knocked once, and Minerva called for him to enter, as always. She was arranging berries and cream, and french toast on her living room table. She smiled up at him as he entered.
“Hello, Albus. How has your day been?” She asked with a smile that seemed to light up the room and ease his fears.
“My morning’s been fine. I had some business to attend to this morning at the Ministry, but the meeting was almost endurable. How has your morning been?” He asked calmly, anticipating her response.
“Fine. I answered my correspondence, and yours as well, and then I spent some time doing a crossword puzzle from the Prophet. Nothing out of the usual.”
Albus frowned, she hadn’t mentioned Horace. What did that mean? He sat down at the table. “This isn’t a very typical Minerva McGonagall lunch.” Albus said with a smile.
“No, well, I know that French toast is one of your favorites, and you should eat more fruit, so I thought we’d have a bit of a breakfast-themed lunch. Merlin knows you’ve endured an awful lot of fish on my account.”
“Well, what else can one expect when one is dining with a cat?” Albus asked with a raised eyebrow, and Minerva swatted him playfully.
They fell into a companionable silence, as Albus load his plate with French toast, and slathered the toast with syrup, honey, sugar and cinnamon, and then prepared a plate for Minerva with one piece of French toast covered in a bit of honey and some ginger...just the way she liked it. Minerva scooped berries into Albus’s bowl and then covered them in gobs of cream, and then dusted them with sugar, since she knew that that was how he liked them, then she fixed herself a small bowl sans cream and sugar. She then fixed Albus a cup of hot cocoa and poured herself a cup of tea.
As they began to eat, Albus stole a few furtive glances at Minerva. How should he approach the Horace question? Minerva hadn’t mentioned it...and she wasn’t behaving any differently than she usually did. Shouldn’t she be giddy or beaming or something, if she were in love with Horace? How to broach the question?
Albus put a piece of toast in his mouth, and then, as he cut his next piece, he said, “So, I ran into Horace this morning...” he never lifted his eyes from his plate as he let the unspoken question drag in the air.
Minerva blushed as she scooped her berries, eyes downcast, “Oh, ah, yes, Horace stopped by this morning. He, um, he asked if I’d, um, accompany him to the ball, and, um, I agreed to go.”
It took all of Albus’s willpower to smile, despite the fact that his last hope was gone, she had agreed to go with Horace, and she had blushed at the mention of his name. He would just have to find someone else to go with. Why should it matter to him if she went with Horace anyway? They were just friends. He had no rights over her...no control of her.
“Well, that’s good. I’m sure you too will have a good time.” Albus said with a carefree lightness that he didn’t feel.
Minerva’s heart plummeted. She would have ditched Horace in a moment, if Albus would just have asked her to go. In all the years she’d known him, he had never asked her to go with him to a ball. They had just gone together as friends, it was expected. Was it so wrong to want to be asked? To want to be treated like a woman?
She smiled, even as her heart was crushed and bruised, “Yes, I’m sure we will.”
Suddenly, seeing how happy she seemed about going with Horace, a possessive streak overcame Albus. She was his Minerva. His best friend. “I ran into Nicholas this morning at the Ministry.”
“Oh,” Minerva said casually, looking up, as she spooned her berries.
“He invited me to dinner tonight.”
“Oh, so you won’t be in the castle tonight.” Minerva said, trying not to let the sound of disappointment creep into her voice. “Don’t worry. I’ll watch the castle.”
“No, Minerva,” Albus said shaking his head, “I want you to come with me.”
Minerva looked up suddenly, confusion in her eyes, “You want me to come with you?”
He nodded and smiled, “We’ve been friends for years, and you’ve never met them. It’s about time that they meet my best friend.”
His words cut Minerva like a night, but she smiled in spite of herself, “That sounds lovely.”
Hi, I love it: please continue soon!
