Post by nemi on Feb 21, 2006 14:02:04 GMT -5
Here I am, back again with a oneshot when I should be writing other fics – but I’m having a torrent of oneshot plotbunnies at the moment. This one started knawing at my leg when I read EloquentPhoenix’s challenge, and I couldn’t resist. I loved the lyrics; they’re so cute! Enjoy!
Title: Run to You
Rating: PG
Summary: Minerva McGonagall always appears to be strong and in control, but deep down she’s far from it. When life gets really hard, who will she run to? And will they stay? Set in MWPP 7th year
Based on: Song by Whitney Houston, challenge by EloquentPhoenix
----------------------
I know that when you look at me
There’s so much that you just don’t see
“It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it, Minerva?”
“Yes, it is, lovely,” I replied as I watched Albus scraping the last remnants of porridge off the side of his bowl.
“It looks like it will be a beautiful evening tonight as well; all the better for when you beat me at our weekly chess match.”
Albus smiled at me and I forced myself to smile back. That was all he saw when he looked at me – skills and intelligence. Commendable traits, I cannot deny, but it was as if he thought that was all there was to me. No feelings, no weaknesses. Then again, not many people really did think I was anything more than a strict old grouch with far too much intellect and only an occasional sense of humour.
But if you would only take the time
I know in my heart you’d find
A girl who’s scared sometimes
Who isn’t always strong
I only wished, with all my heart, that someone – preferably Albus – would take the time to look at me properly and see something else, see that I wasn’t always strong, I did have feelings. People thought that they could say anything about me and I wouldn’t care; I was too much of a bookworm and killjoy that I wouldn’t really mind what others said about me as long as I got to read. I just wanted to scream that it wasn’t true. I would have given anything, anything, for someone to compliment me once in a while.
Can’t you see the hurt in me?
I feel so all alone
“Which class do you have first today then, Minerva?” Albus’ voice came from somewhere to my left.
“First year Gryffindor and Slytherin,” I answered half-heartedly.
He didn’t notice. “They’re a right handful, I believe. I’ve been getting quite a few complaints about the way that class behaves together, even from Professor Slughorn, and he hates uttering a word about a group of Slytherins that isn’t praise. And you have the seventh year Gryffindors and Slytherins last, do you not? How are they doing?”
“As smashing as ever,” I responded dryly.
Why couldn’t he see it? Couldn’t he tell from the way he was speaking that I was upset? Was he even taking time to look? Did he even care? So many unanswered questions were swarming around my head and it broke my heart to try and answer any of them. Didn’t he know? Didn’t he know how much I wanted him, above anyone else, to see how upset I really was?
I wanna run to you (oooh)
I wanna run to you (oooh)
Won’t you hold me in your arms
And keep me safe from harm
All I wanted was to be able to run to him when I was upset, and have him hold me and tell me that it was alright. I didn’t ask for much in life. All I really wanted was the basics – a career and someone to comfort me. I had a much better career than I had bargained for; I wouldn’t trade it for anything. But throughout my whole life I’d wanted someone to comfort me, and there was no one. Everyone assumed I didn’t need it.
I wanna run to you (oooh)
But if I come to you (oooh)
Tell me, will you stay or will you run away?
But what would happen if I did ask for help? He’d probably push me away, appalled. Why would he want to comfort me? Someone as wonderful and admirable as Albus Dumbledore probably wouldn’t want to waste his time trying to make me feel better. I probably wouldn’t blame him if he said so to my face; it wasn’t as though I had any redeeming features, was it? Albeit I was intelligent, but that was everything really, everything that anyone would put on a list of my good points.
I think I managed to get through the day until the last lesson. Most of my classes were tolerable, with the exception of a student or two – those students were dealt with swiftly, if a little more leniently than usual as I really didn’t have the energy.
Each day, each day I play the role
Of someone always in control
Black, I think, was the straw that broke the camel’s back. There were only a few minutes left until the end of the day. I couldn’t believe I’d lasted this long – I just wanted to go back to my quarters and have a nice cup of hot tea. I’d made it so far and my extremely despondent mood had lightened to merely very despondent – I was slightly more alert and less snappy with this class than I had been with my previous one, which had hastened out of the room in fear at the end of the lesson after I’d roared at them for making a noise (the “noise” was in fact merely a whispering).
Everyone seemed to be getting along just fine when I ordered the class to pack away. As I cleared my desk, I was thinking of allowing them a small smile when I dismissed them. However, the conversation I overheard on the front row shed a completely new light on things.
“Hey, Moony!” Potter was asking Remus Lupin. “What’s the matter? You seem a little upset.” I had to commend Potter – if an insufferable brat sometimes, at least he had a good heart and was brave and caring really.
“I don’t know,” Remus said quietly. “I’ve just seemed really down lately for some reason.”
Lily Evans cleared her throat.
“Here we go,” muttered Black.
“Oh, shut up, Black,” Lily snarled. She turned back to Remus and smiled encouragingly. “Why don’t you stay behind and talk to Professor McGonagall, Remus?” she asked, clearly oblivious to the fact that I could hear. “She might be able to help you.”
Black let out a loud roar of laughter. “Oh, Lilian, you’ve surpassed yourself! What will we hear next?” he guffawed. “McGonagall?! What makes you think she’d be able to help? All she really cares or knows about is books, lesson plans and shouting at the whole school when she can manage it.”
I think it was Peter, believe it or not, who first realised I was watching. “Um, Sirius?”
“I mean, come on!” Black continued. “I think you’re going a bit far. She’ll probably tell him he’s not reading enough, so he’s feeling down, and he needs to make sure he reads every single book in the library just in case this down feeling carries on.”
“Sirius…”
“I doubt she’s ever felt anything in her life.”
Tears sprung to my eyes and I bit my lip as the other Marauders fell silent. Peter looked petrified; Lily looked ready to hex him to Hell and back; Remus looked sorely sorry he’d said anything. But it was James, surprisingly, who spoke next.
“Oh, well done, Padfoot,” he said sarcastically. “There’s going overboard, and there’s going overboard. Come on, Lilykins, I want to show you a book my mother sent me.”
The Marauders looked at me gingerly, but I merely took a deep breath and looked away. “Class dismissed,” I managed to choke out, before turning around to dust the board by hand rather than magic as I usually did – it gave me an excuse not to look at the students as they filed out.
The students were the same! Everyone was! They all assumed I was in control of everything; that, as Black had said, all I cared about was books and similar things. Why couldn’t they see I was human too? I wasn’t just the strict deputy headmistress who took it upon herself to shout at classes she didn’t even take.
But at night I come home and turn the key
There’s nobody there, no one cares for me
Sometimes I envied the students – students like James and Lily. They were but seventeen or eighteen years old and yet they had each other to care for them – they both had their respective shoulders to cry on. I was just expected to stand alone. There was no one to look after me, to tell me everything was okay, to tell me I wasn’t useless.
What’s the sense of trying hard to find your dreams
Without someone to share it with
Tell me what does it mean?
Why did I bother wanting anything? I had no one to come home to and smile at and tell tales of what I had endured that day. I had no one to share anything with; they’d all just laugh at me and say I was spouting something I’d read in a book.
I wanna run to you (oooh)
I wanna run to you (oooh)
Won’t you hold me in your arms
And keep me safe from harm
I finished wiping the board. It was spotless. I’d gone over every part of it at least thrice. I roughly threw the rest of my things into my drawers and locked my desk, and then hurriedly left and locked the classroom, darting up the corridor to my office, and from there, through the magical door that led to my quarters. I just couldn’t take it any more.
Why couldn’t someone, someone, take pity on me and listen to me cry?
I wanna run to you (oooh)
But if I come to you (oooh)
Tell me, will you stay or will you run away?
Run away
Couldn’t someone just come and let me talk to them? Let me tell them of my troubles, and then tell me not to worry. Everyone else seemed to have someone. I was all alone in the world; I had no one. Even my closest friends knew nothing.
I need you here
I need you here to wipe away my tears
To kiss away my fears
If you only knew how much...
I flung my outer robe on a chair and collapsed on my bed, bursting into uncontrollable tears. I needed someone to come and wipe them away, anyone! Why couldn’t Albus notice anything? He didn’t notice how much I loved him; he didn’t notice I was upset; he noticed nothing! No one did! No one realised that, rather than being so strong as everyone assumed I was, I needed someone to tell me I didn’t need to be weak… that it was okay… I needed someone so much…
The clock struck eight and I was seriously worried. Minerva hadn’t shown up at dinner and I’d resolved to ask her about it later. I was already going to ask her if she was alright – she’d been acting odd lately, like something was wrong. I hadn’t asked sooner as I wanted to wait until we had privacy, in case she didn’t want to talk about it in front of anyone else (namely one Horace Slughorn). I thought perhaps something might have happened, but I didn’t think anything could be bad enough for her to miss our chess game. She knew what time it was. It was the same time every week.
I sighed and stood up. Perhaps she was in her office? Or her quarters? I didn’t know, but I’d take the route she usually used to come to my office – after all, maybe she was at the bottom of the staircase, shouting at some insolent first year that had held her up. I smiled as I imagined it.
Alas, my hopes were in vain. I didn’t come across her at all as I made my way to her rooms. What could possibly be wrong? Had she fallen? Was she ill?
I pushed open her office door, which was already slightly ajar. Strange. “Minerva?” I called. “Minerva, are you here?” The office was in pristine condition as usual, and that was what was worrying me. It hadn’t been touched at all since the night before when I’d called in to ask her about a letter from the Minister. She hadn’t even graded the pile of papers on her desk. Something was seriously wrong.
A worried frown set on my face, I strode over to the door to her quarters and rapped on it three times. When there was no reply, I whispered, “To be or not to be,” (Minerva loved Shakespeare) and the door swung open soundlessly.
Minerva wasn’t in the sitting room so I made my way into the bedroom. I found her lying on her bed, obviously exhausted. She was wearing the blouse and skirt she’d once said she wore for teaching (I’d never actually seen her with her outer robe off before), and was breathing heavily, with the occasional sob.
I sat down on the edge of the bed. “Minerva?” I whispered. “Minerva dear, what’s the matter?”
She started and knelt up. I’d never once seen her cry before and she was in a right state – some of her hair had come out of its bun and was framing her face, and her cheeks were red and puffy and her lips swollen. In my opinion, she looked even more beautiful than she usually did. She didn’t appear to know so, however.
“Albus,” she choked, her hand flying to her mouth. Tears began to flow again. “Albus… I’m sorry, I…”
“Don’t be sorry, Minerva,” I said softly. “It’s okay. What’s wrong?”
I had started to raise my arm, not sure if she would want me to put it around her shoulders, but she collapsed onto my lap, her body racked with sobs. “No one notices, no one cares!” she cried. “Everyone thinks… everyone thinks I don’t feel anything and I don’t care, Albus, but I do! It’s so hard! The students, they all hate me! Everyone does! No one cares about me, everyone just leaves me… All I want is someone to be able to love, someone to love me, but everyone runs away… You, you don’t listen, you don’t know how I love you, everyone runs away from me! What is it about me?! You think I'm fine, you don’t know how much I need…” She couldn’t carry on for tears. I don’t think she truly realised I was listening.
I wanna run to you (oooh)
And I wanna run to you (oooh)
Won’t you hold me in your arms
And keep me safe from harm
I'll run to you (oooh)
But if I come to you (oooh)
Tell me, will you stay or will you run away?
I couldn’t say how long I’d waited to hear those words. I hadn’t thought Minerva would want anything to do with me if I revealed my feelings. Why would she want me of all people? But it seemed we needed each other. Minerva wasn’t as strong as I’d thought and I was going to do everything in my power to make sure she had anything she wanted.
I lifted her face and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I was going to ask you tonight at our chess game,” I whispered. “I noticed you’d been looking upset but I thought you wouldn’t want it mentioning in front of Horace.” I stroked her cheek. “Don’t worry about anything, Minerva,” I said. “I care. I care more than you know. I love you, Minerva, and I’m not running away, I’m going nowhere.”
Fin
I don’t know what type of response I’m going to get for this story. I’ve never written anything quite so angsty before, and I don’t know if the end was alright or if the first person was written okay, so please tell me what you think!
Title: Run to You
Rating: PG
Summary: Minerva McGonagall always appears to be strong and in control, but deep down she’s far from it. When life gets really hard, who will she run to? And will they stay? Set in MWPP 7th year
Based on: Song by Whitney Houston, challenge by EloquentPhoenix
----------------------
I know that when you look at me
There’s so much that you just don’t see
“It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it, Minerva?”
“Yes, it is, lovely,” I replied as I watched Albus scraping the last remnants of porridge off the side of his bowl.
“It looks like it will be a beautiful evening tonight as well; all the better for when you beat me at our weekly chess match.”
Albus smiled at me and I forced myself to smile back. That was all he saw when he looked at me – skills and intelligence. Commendable traits, I cannot deny, but it was as if he thought that was all there was to me. No feelings, no weaknesses. Then again, not many people really did think I was anything more than a strict old grouch with far too much intellect and only an occasional sense of humour.
But if you would only take the time
I know in my heart you’d find
A girl who’s scared sometimes
Who isn’t always strong
I only wished, with all my heart, that someone – preferably Albus – would take the time to look at me properly and see something else, see that I wasn’t always strong, I did have feelings. People thought that they could say anything about me and I wouldn’t care; I was too much of a bookworm and killjoy that I wouldn’t really mind what others said about me as long as I got to read. I just wanted to scream that it wasn’t true. I would have given anything, anything, for someone to compliment me once in a while.
Can’t you see the hurt in me?
I feel so all alone
“Which class do you have first today then, Minerva?” Albus’ voice came from somewhere to my left.
“First year Gryffindor and Slytherin,” I answered half-heartedly.
He didn’t notice. “They’re a right handful, I believe. I’ve been getting quite a few complaints about the way that class behaves together, even from Professor Slughorn, and he hates uttering a word about a group of Slytherins that isn’t praise. And you have the seventh year Gryffindors and Slytherins last, do you not? How are they doing?”
“As smashing as ever,” I responded dryly.
Why couldn’t he see it? Couldn’t he tell from the way he was speaking that I was upset? Was he even taking time to look? Did he even care? So many unanswered questions were swarming around my head and it broke my heart to try and answer any of them. Didn’t he know? Didn’t he know how much I wanted him, above anyone else, to see how upset I really was?
I wanna run to you (oooh)
I wanna run to you (oooh)
Won’t you hold me in your arms
And keep me safe from harm
All I wanted was to be able to run to him when I was upset, and have him hold me and tell me that it was alright. I didn’t ask for much in life. All I really wanted was the basics – a career and someone to comfort me. I had a much better career than I had bargained for; I wouldn’t trade it for anything. But throughout my whole life I’d wanted someone to comfort me, and there was no one. Everyone assumed I didn’t need it.
I wanna run to you (oooh)
But if I come to you (oooh)
Tell me, will you stay or will you run away?
But what would happen if I did ask for help? He’d probably push me away, appalled. Why would he want to comfort me? Someone as wonderful and admirable as Albus Dumbledore probably wouldn’t want to waste his time trying to make me feel better. I probably wouldn’t blame him if he said so to my face; it wasn’t as though I had any redeeming features, was it? Albeit I was intelligent, but that was everything really, everything that anyone would put on a list of my good points.
I think I managed to get through the day until the last lesson. Most of my classes were tolerable, with the exception of a student or two – those students were dealt with swiftly, if a little more leniently than usual as I really didn’t have the energy.
Each day, each day I play the role
Of someone always in control
Black, I think, was the straw that broke the camel’s back. There were only a few minutes left until the end of the day. I couldn’t believe I’d lasted this long – I just wanted to go back to my quarters and have a nice cup of hot tea. I’d made it so far and my extremely despondent mood had lightened to merely very despondent – I was slightly more alert and less snappy with this class than I had been with my previous one, which had hastened out of the room in fear at the end of the lesson after I’d roared at them for making a noise (the “noise” was in fact merely a whispering).
Everyone seemed to be getting along just fine when I ordered the class to pack away. As I cleared my desk, I was thinking of allowing them a small smile when I dismissed them. However, the conversation I overheard on the front row shed a completely new light on things.
“Hey, Moony!” Potter was asking Remus Lupin. “What’s the matter? You seem a little upset.” I had to commend Potter – if an insufferable brat sometimes, at least he had a good heart and was brave and caring really.
“I don’t know,” Remus said quietly. “I’ve just seemed really down lately for some reason.”
Lily Evans cleared her throat.
“Here we go,” muttered Black.
“Oh, shut up, Black,” Lily snarled. She turned back to Remus and smiled encouragingly. “Why don’t you stay behind and talk to Professor McGonagall, Remus?” she asked, clearly oblivious to the fact that I could hear. “She might be able to help you.”
Black let out a loud roar of laughter. “Oh, Lilian, you’ve surpassed yourself! What will we hear next?” he guffawed. “McGonagall?! What makes you think she’d be able to help? All she really cares or knows about is books, lesson plans and shouting at the whole school when she can manage it.”
I think it was Peter, believe it or not, who first realised I was watching. “Um, Sirius?”
“I mean, come on!” Black continued. “I think you’re going a bit far. She’ll probably tell him he’s not reading enough, so he’s feeling down, and he needs to make sure he reads every single book in the library just in case this down feeling carries on.”
“Sirius…”
“I doubt she’s ever felt anything in her life.”
Tears sprung to my eyes and I bit my lip as the other Marauders fell silent. Peter looked petrified; Lily looked ready to hex him to Hell and back; Remus looked sorely sorry he’d said anything. But it was James, surprisingly, who spoke next.
“Oh, well done, Padfoot,” he said sarcastically. “There’s going overboard, and there’s going overboard. Come on, Lilykins, I want to show you a book my mother sent me.”
The Marauders looked at me gingerly, but I merely took a deep breath and looked away. “Class dismissed,” I managed to choke out, before turning around to dust the board by hand rather than magic as I usually did – it gave me an excuse not to look at the students as they filed out.
The students were the same! Everyone was! They all assumed I was in control of everything; that, as Black had said, all I cared about was books and similar things. Why couldn’t they see I was human too? I wasn’t just the strict deputy headmistress who took it upon herself to shout at classes she didn’t even take.
But at night I come home and turn the key
There’s nobody there, no one cares for me
Sometimes I envied the students – students like James and Lily. They were but seventeen or eighteen years old and yet they had each other to care for them – they both had their respective shoulders to cry on. I was just expected to stand alone. There was no one to look after me, to tell me everything was okay, to tell me I wasn’t useless.
What’s the sense of trying hard to find your dreams
Without someone to share it with
Tell me what does it mean?
Why did I bother wanting anything? I had no one to come home to and smile at and tell tales of what I had endured that day. I had no one to share anything with; they’d all just laugh at me and say I was spouting something I’d read in a book.
I wanna run to you (oooh)
I wanna run to you (oooh)
Won’t you hold me in your arms
And keep me safe from harm
I finished wiping the board. It was spotless. I’d gone over every part of it at least thrice. I roughly threw the rest of my things into my drawers and locked my desk, and then hurriedly left and locked the classroom, darting up the corridor to my office, and from there, through the magical door that led to my quarters. I just couldn’t take it any more.
Why couldn’t someone, someone, take pity on me and listen to me cry?
I wanna run to you (oooh)
But if I come to you (oooh)
Tell me, will you stay or will you run away?
Run away
Couldn’t someone just come and let me talk to them? Let me tell them of my troubles, and then tell me not to worry. Everyone else seemed to have someone. I was all alone in the world; I had no one. Even my closest friends knew nothing.
I need you here
I need you here to wipe away my tears
To kiss away my fears
If you only knew how much...
I flung my outer robe on a chair and collapsed on my bed, bursting into uncontrollable tears. I needed someone to come and wipe them away, anyone! Why couldn’t Albus notice anything? He didn’t notice how much I loved him; he didn’t notice I was upset; he noticed nothing! No one did! No one realised that, rather than being so strong as everyone assumed I was, I needed someone to tell me I didn’t need to be weak… that it was okay… I needed someone so much…
oooo
The clock struck eight and I was seriously worried. Minerva hadn’t shown up at dinner and I’d resolved to ask her about it later. I was already going to ask her if she was alright – she’d been acting odd lately, like something was wrong. I hadn’t asked sooner as I wanted to wait until we had privacy, in case she didn’t want to talk about it in front of anyone else (namely one Horace Slughorn). I thought perhaps something might have happened, but I didn’t think anything could be bad enough for her to miss our chess game. She knew what time it was. It was the same time every week.
I sighed and stood up. Perhaps she was in her office? Or her quarters? I didn’t know, but I’d take the route she usually used to come to my office – after all, maybe she was at the bottom of the staircase, shouting at some insolent first year that had held her up. I smiled as I imagined it.
Alas, my hopes were in vain. I didn’t come across her at all as I made my way to her rooms. What could possibly be wrong? Had she fallen? Was she ill?
I pushed open her office door, which was already slightly ajar. Strange. “Minerva?” I called. “Minerva, are you here?” The office was in pristine condition as usual, and that was what was worrying me. It hadn’t been touched at all since the night before when I’d called in to ask her about a letter from the Minister. She hadn’t even graded the pile of papers on her desk. Something was seriously wrong.
A worried frown set on my face, I strode over to the door to her quarters and rapped on it three times. When there was no reply, I whispered, “To be or not to be,” (Minerva loved Shakespeare) and the door swung open soundlessly.
Minerva wasn’t in the sitting room so I made my way into the bedroom. I found her lying on her bed, obviously exhausted. She was wearing the blouse and skirt she’d once said she wore for teaching (I’d never actually seen her with her outer robe off before), and was breathing heavily, with the occasional sob.
I sat down on the edge of the bed. “Minerva?” I whispered. “Minerva dear, what’s the matter?”
She started and knelt up. I’d never once seen her cry before and she was in a right state – some of her hair had come out of its bun and was framing her face, and her cheeks were red and puffy and her lips swollen. In my opinion, she looked even more beautiful than she usually did. She didn’t appear to know so, however.
“Albus,” she choked, her hand flying to her mouth. Tears began to flow again. “Albus… I’m sorry, I…”
“Don’t be sorry, Minerva,” I said softly. “It’s okay. What’s wrong?”
I had started to raise my arm, not sure if she would want me to put it around her shoulders, but she collapsed onto my lap, her body racked with sobs. “No one notices, no one cares!” she cried. “Everyone thinks… everyone thinks I don’t feel anything and I don’t care, Albus, but I do! It’s so hard! The students, they all hate me! Everyone does! No one cares about me, everyone just leaves me… All I want is someone to be able to love, someone to love me, but everyone runs away… You, you don’t listen, you don’t know how I love you, everyone runs away from me! What is it about me?! You think I'm fine, you don’t know how much I need…” She couldn’t carry on for tears. I don’t think she truly realised I was listening.
I wanna run to you (oooh)
And I wanna run to you (oooh)
Won’t you hold me in your arms
And keep me safe from harm
I'll run to you (oooh)
But if I come to you (oooh)
Tell me, will you stay or will you run away?
I couldn’t say how long I’d waited to hear those words. I hadn’t thought Minerva would want anything to do with me if I revealed my feelings. Why would she want me of all people? But it seemed we needed each other. Minerva wasn’t as strong as I’d thought and I was going to do everything in my power to make sure she had anything she wanted.
I lifted her face and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I was going to ask you tonight at our chess game,” I whispered. “I noticed you’d been looking upset but I thought you wouldn’t want it mentioning in front of Horace.” I stroked her cheek. “Don’t worry about anything, Minerva,” I said. “I care. I care more than you know. I love you, Minerva, and I’m not running away, I’m going nowhere.”
Fin
I don’t know what type of response I’m going to get for this story. I’ve never written anything quite so angsty before, and I don’t know if the end was alright or if the first person was written okay, so please tell me what you think!
But i can also understand Albus.
