Post by morgan72uk on Apr 13, 2006 4:21:08 GMT -5
Title: All Other Things
Author: Morgan72uk
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer: The characters belong to JK Rowling – I thought some of the grown ups deserved to be taken out for a spin – I promise not to break them.
A/N - I am not sure where this came from - but it's been bugging me, so I decided to get it out of my system. I think I wanted to write something set in the first war against Voldemort that was about the fear and damage. But that also caught up MMAD and their relationship. I almost put it in Angst or Drama - but it has a romantixc end so..
All Other Things
As Minerva emerged into the night her first thought was that she wasn’t going to be quick enough. If only she’d thought of the astronomy tower before Albus had, if only they’d realised earlier how the child was reacting… if only, if only.
Never had she transitioned so quickly from cat to human – even though the high-speed transformation was a complicated and risky exercise in itself. Never had she wished so desperately for extra seconds, or for the gift of divination – since a vision of this scene would have enabled her to prevent it. Never had she thought so little of her own life and so much of someone else’s.
It happened so fast and there was no time to piece together the way she reacted, the complex process of reckoning and reasoning. She was by no means a reckless woman, in these treacherous times even bravery needed to be tempered by calculations of the greater good. But this calculation hardly needed the limited time available to make it.
The wand flicked, the words “Avada Kedavra” slipped from the boy’s lips and a single step brought her to stand in front of Albus Dumbledore.
She heard the strangled gasp behind her – but paid it no heed. Her memory flashed briefly to the conversation they’d been having an hour, or a lifetime, ago – and suddenly, her irritation and anger with him seemed startlingly irrelevant. Before her the boy’s eyes widened and, as time slowed, she braced herself.
Nothing happened. It was a relief, of sorts, that without power and real intention behind it the killing curse couldn’t harm anyone. But still it had been cast; there would be repercussions. The boy still clutched his wand, his expression torn between relief and anger. She prayed to any passing deity that for once in his life Albus would stay quiet and allow her to handle this.
“Mr Sayers,” surprisingly her voice sounded entirely normal, “please hand me your wand.”
“He didn’t save them,” she took a step towards him, trying to hold his gaze with hers, trying to build on this tenuous connection. “He could have saved them and he did nothing.”
“You know that isn’t true; the headmaster didn’t know your parents were going to be targeted. He’s doing everything he can to defeat Voldemort,” she winced but didn’t let herself stop to think about what she had just said, “but he doesn’t know his every move. He can’t predict who his next victims will be. It isn’t his fault.”
The boy looked at his Head of House for a long moment, she could see the struggle in his eyes and when his hand moved she feared he would turn the wand on himself. But instead he held his hand out to her.
“I’m sorry Professor.”
“I know.” She took the wand from his outstretched hand and closed the distance between them. Fifth year boys, especially Gryffindor boys, were not particularly good at giving or receiving comfort – but Gregorius Sayers had just lost his parents and younger sister. A careful hand placed on his shoulder offered support, but she could feel his how tight his muscles were; a reminder should she need one, that there was no comfort to be offered.
They stood in silence until voices reached them from the stairway leading to the tower. “Madam Pomfrey I believe,” Albus said. Minerva nodded in acknowledgement but didn’t look away from her charge. She wasn’t ready to face him yet, wasn’t ready for the reminder that just a short time ago they had been having a conversation about why it would be impossible for them to have a closer, more intimate relationship while they were at war.
“Is everything all right?” She wasn’t sure that she had ever been quite so relieved to see Poppy before, to transfer Mr Sayers into her care. “Are you hurt Gregorius?”
“Mr Sayers is unharmed, but perhaps a draught of dreamless sleep potion might be advisable and a night in the hospital wing.” The Headmaster was right, but the situation wasn’t that simple.
“What about the Ministry?” She doubted that even while dealing with the aftermath of Voldemort’s latest attack the Ministry would overlook an underage wizard casting the killing curse.
“They will have to wait until Mr Sayers is well enough to be questioned. I’m sure we can waylay them once they arrive. I imagine it will be sometime until there is anyone available to respond to this case.” The oblique comment was a reminder of the destruction that Voldemort continued to leave in his wake, a reminder that Mr Sayers’ family were not the only victims of the previous nights’ attacks – he wasn’t even the only Gryffindor affected.
“Come along with me then, we’ll get you settled for the night.” Minerva watched Poppy guide Sayers towards the staircase where Filius was waiting. Her glance back towards the Headmaster and his Deputy was one that clearly spoke of questions yet to be answered, but Minerva shook her head fractionally. There would be no answers until the boy was safely asleep.
She took a step to follow them but wasn’t surprised when a quiet voice called her back. “Can I have a moment Professor McGonagall?”
“Of course.” She turned but made no attempt to approach him, or even to look up at him. She wasn’t sure she had the energy for this scene – she had already lived through drama enough for one night.
“Minerva, look at me.” She obeyed and then wished she hadn’t, his eyes were grave and serious – the same expression he’d been wearing as he’d more or less told her he couldn’t allow himself to return her feelings. She’d been about to retreat to her rooms to recover from the sting of his rejection when the alarm had been raised about Sayers. “While I am grateful for your actions tonight, you must promise me that you will never do anything like that again.”
Only Albus could thank you for saving his life and deliver a rebuke at the same time she reflected. Only Albus could expect unwavering loyalty – even under these circumstances. “I’m sorry, but I won’t promise that I’ll never again try to save your life.”
“Minerva,” his voice was the same patient, level tone – as though he were addressing a student. She longed to provoke some other reaction from him; she wanted to make him treat her differently.
“I won’t let you decide for me, that’s not the way this works!” Even Albus Dumbledore could conclude that they were no longer talking just about the incident.
“I know you’re upset…”
“I’m not upset. I’m livid. You can’t decide to keep me safe because it suits you. You can’t choose not to feel something because the risk is too great.”
“Minerva, you must see sense, if Tom knew we were involved he would do everything he could to hurt you.” She almost laughed; the thought was so ridiculous.
“Albus, he’s slaughtering eight year olds. You can’t protect me, you can’t keep me tucked away at Hogwarts – I won’t allow it for one thing and for another, we’re at war, I’m not sure that anywhere is safe.” She saw the flicker of pain in those remarkably expressive eyes and knew he had been stung by her taunt that the school itself might not be secure.
“So, you suggest that while the world tumbles down around us I should avail myself of the comfort you offer?”
“No, I suggest that you face the fact that you only have the time to fight one battle. Voldemort is your enemy – I am not; it’s foolish of you to waste your energy fighting how you feel about me.” His head jerked up at her remark and this time she did smile. But then she was overwhelmed by a sudden wave of tenderness that she wasn’t sure he deserved, “you’ve said it’s too dangerous, that you can’t allow yourself to take the risk – you didn’t say that you don’t feel anything for me.”
“And I never will – it’s rather that I feel too much. I don’t think I could stand to see anything happen to you.” She closed her eyes; not sure she had ever expected that he would admit such a thing. When she opened them he was standing far closer to her – and the expression in his eyes had shifted. No longer did he look anxious and worried; instead his eyes glinted with mirth and as their gazes met something else flared in their depths. She had given up trying to fathom the speed at which his moods changed, but she wasn’t going to let him wrong foot her.
For some reason it mattered that she was the one who reached for him, that her hands curled into his robes to tug him closer. It even seemed important that she was the one who pressed her lips to his – though by the time he was responding urgently the question of who was in charge of the kiss had ceased to matter.
“Promise me you’ll never try to save my life again,” he gasped, pulling his lips away from hers.
“I will not,” she responded, before their mouths crashed together once more.
The sudden flash that heralded Fawkes’ arrival interrupted the increasingly heated embrace. “The Ministry?” She guessed.
“Well, someone has just arrived at the edge of the grounds. Whoever it is, we should, perhaps, postpone our discussion.”
“I think things have progressed slightly beyond the conversational stage Headmaster.”
“Minerva,” she sighed, the tone was back. But she was weary of this endless fight, so instead of arguing she kissed him, hard.
“There has been enough pain and loss for one day. I don’t want us add to it.” His grip on her tightened momentarily and she could only guess what this was doing to him. More than anyone alive he was aware of what Voldemort was capable of – and they both knew that if they continued, even if they tried for secrecy, she would be put at risk. Every instinct must be screaming at him that if he cared about her he should do whatever it took to keep her safe.
“If anything happens to you…” it was there again; the sudden fragility and even she had to admit there was something terrifying about the knowledge that she could weaken the most powerful wizard she knew.
“This could be the one thing that helps us to survive, the light in our darkness. Don’t let’s throw it away.” She cupped his cheek with her palm, breathing his name as her thumb stroked over his lips. His eyes fluttered and he gathered her close again.
“I admit defeat Minerva, this foolish, old man is yours, for as long as you will have him. The heavens may fall; the world may be consumed by Voldemort’s fire – but you and I will live, love and fight side-by-side.” For a moment she wondered if this was another tactic, a way of making her tell him that they shouldn’t take the risk. But when she looked into his eyes she knew that wasn’t the case, his expression was that of a man who had fought a long, hard battle with himself – but who did not fear the consequences of his defeat. And he was right – she would be a most benevolent conqueror.
As they made their way down from the tower her feelings were very different from those that had accompanied her headlong flight earlier. Anticipation and excitement had replaced fear and at the moment of parting the naked longing in his gaze made her sorry she had not forced the issue months ago.
But, for the next little while at least, their paths lay in different directions. His took him to the entrance hall to greet their visitors, while hers lay with the hospital wing, her young charge and then back to Gryffindor tower and the rest of her House. Their parting was quiet; fingers entwining for a moment, soft smiles lingering now their personal battle had been resolved. She glanced over her shoulder to watch his progress - only to find him looking back at her.
She knew that the world was dangerous and that it would be easy for them to let the darkness consume their feelings. But, if she knew anything at all, it was that in admitting their feelings they had taken yet another step in the war against Voldemort. He could destroy everything around them, tear down all they cared about, and even separate them – but he could not alter the fact that they loved.
The End
Author: Morgan72uk
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer: The characters belong to JK Rowling – I thought some of the grown ups deserved to be taken out for a spin – I promise not to break them.
A/N - I am not sure where this came from - but it's been bugging me, so I decided to get it out of my system. I think I wanted to write something set in the first war against Voldemort that was about the fear and damage. But that also caught up MMAD and their relationship. I almost put it in Angst or Drama - but it has a romantixc end so..
All Other Things
As Minerva emerged into the night her first thought was that she wasn’t going to be quick enough. If only she’d thought of the astronomy tower before Albus had, if only they’d realised earlier how the child was reacting… if only, if only.
Never had she transitioned so quickly from cat to human – even though the high-speed transformation was a complicated and risky exercise in itself. Never had she wished so desperately for extra seconds, or for the gift of divination – since a vision of this scene would have enabled her to prevent it. Never had she thought so little of her own life and so much of someone else’s.
It happened so fast and there was no time to piece together the way she reacted, the complex process of reckoning and reasoning. She was by no means a reckless woman, in these treacherous times even bravery needed to be tempered by calculations of the greater good. But this calculation hardly needed the limited time available to make it.
The wand flicked, the words “Avada Kedavra” slipped from the boy’s lips and a single step brought her to stand in front of Albus Dumbledore.
She heard the strangled gasp behind her – but paid it no heed. Her memory flashed briefly to the conversation they’d been having an hour, or a lifetime, ago – and suddenly, her irritation and anger with him seemed startlingly irrelevant. Before her the boy’s eyes widened and, as time slowed, she braced herself.
Nothing happened. It was a relief, of sorts, that without power and real intention behind it the killing curse couldn’t harm anyone. But still it had been cast; there would be repercussions. The boy still clutched his wand, his expression torn between relief and anger. She prayed to any passing deity that for once in his life Albus would stay quiet and allow her to handle this.
“Mr Sayers,” surprisingly her voice sounded entirely normal, “please hand me your wand.”
“He didn’t save them,” she took a step towards him, trying to hold his gaze with hers, trying to build on this tenuous connection. “He could have saved them and he did nothing.”
“You know that isn’t true; the headmaster didn’t know your parents were going to be targeted. He’s doing everything he can to defeat Voldemort,” she winced but didn’t let herself stop to think about what she had just said, “but he doesn’t know his every move. He can’t predict who his next victims will be. It isn’t his fault.”
The boy looked at his Head of House for a long moment, she could see the struggle in his eyes and when his hand moved she feared he would turn the wand on himself. But instead he held his hand out to her.
“I’m sorry Professor.”
“I know.” She took the wand from his outstretched hand and closed the distance between them. Fifth year boys, especially Gryffindor boys, were not particularly good at giving or receiving comfort – but Gregorius Sayers had just lost his parents and younger sister. A careful hand placed on his shoulder offered support, but she could feel his how tight his muscles were; a reminder should she need one, that there was no comfort to be offered.
They stood in silence until voices reached them from the stairway leading to the tower. “Madam Pomfrey I believe,” Albus said. Minerva nodded in acknowledgement but didn’t look away from her charge. She wasn’t ready to face him yet, wasn’t ready for the reminder that just a short time ago they had been having a conversation about why it would be impossible for them to have a closer, more intimate relationship while they were at war.
“Is everything all right?” She wasn’t sure that she had ever been quite so relieved to see Poppy before, to transfer Mr Sayers into her care. “Are you hurt Gregorius?”
“Mr Sayers is unharmed, but perhaps a draught of dreamless sleep potion might be advisable and a night in the hospital wing.” The Headmaster was right, but the situation wasn’t that simple.
“What about the Ministry?” She doubted that even while dealing with the aftermath of Voldemort’s latest attack the Ministry would overlook an underage wizard casting the killing curse.
“They will have to wait until Mr Sayers is well enough to be questioned. I’m sure we can waylay them once they arrive. I imagine it will be sometime until there is anyone available to respond to this case.” The oblique comment was a reminder of the destruction that Voldemort continued to leave in his wake, a reminder that Mr Sayers’ family were not the only victims of the previous nights’ attacks – he wasn’t even the only Gryffindor affected.
“Come along with me then, we’ll get you settled for the night.” Minerva watched Poppy guide Sayers towards the staircase where Filius was waiting. Her glance back towards the Headmaster and his Deputy was one that clearly spoke of questions yet to be answered, but Minerva shook her head fractionally. There would be no answers until the boy was safely asleep.
She took a step to follow them but wasn’t surprised when a quiet voice called her back. “Can I have a moment Professor McGonagall?”
“Of course.” She turned but made no attempt to approach him, or even to look up at him. She wasn’t sure she had the energy for this scene – she had already lived through drama enough for one night.
“Minerva, look at me.” She obeyed and then wished she hadn’t, his eyes were grave and serious – the same expression he’d been wearing as he’d more or less told her he couldn’t allow himself to return her feelings. She’d been about to retreat to her rooms to recover from the sting of his rejection when the alarm had been raised about Sayers. “While I am grateful for your actions tonight, you must promise me that you will never do anything like that again.”
Only Albus could thank you for saving his life and deliver a rebuke at the same time she reflected. Only Albus could expect unwavering loyalty – even under these circumstances. “I’m sorry, but I won’t promise that I’ll never again try to save your life.”
“Minerva,” his voice was the same patient, level tone – as though he were addressing a student. She longed to provoke some other reaction from him; she wanted to make him treat her differently.
“I won’t let you decide for me, that’s not the way this works!” Even Albus Dumbledore could conclude that they were no longer talking just about the incident.
“I know you’re upset…”
“I’m not upset. I’m livid. You can’t decide to keep me safe because it suits you. You can’t choose not to feel something because the risk is too great.”
“Minerva, you must see sense, if Tom knew we were involved he would do everything he could to hurt you.” She almost laughed; the thought was so ridiculous.
“Albus, he’s slaughtering eight year olds. You can’t protect me, you can’t keep me tucked away at Hogwarts – I won’t allow it for one thing and for another, we’re at war, I’m not sure that anywhere is safe.” She saw the flicker of pain in those remarkably expressive eyes and knew he had been stung by her taunt that the school itself might not be secure.
“So, you suggest that while the world tumbles down around us I should avail myself of the comfort you offer?”
“No, I suggest that you face the fact that you only have the time to fight one battle. Voldemort is your enemy – I am not; it’s foolish of you to waste your energy fighting how you feel about me.” His head jerked up at her remark and this time she did smile. But then she was overwhelmed by a sudden wave of tenderness that she wasn’t sure he deserved, “you’ve said it’s too dangerous, that you can’t allow yourself to take the risk – you didn’t say that you don’t feel anything for me.”
“And I never will – it’s rather that I feel too much. I don’t think I could stand to see anything happen to you.” She closed her eyes; not sure she had ever expected that he would admit such a thing. When she opened them he was standing far closer to her – and the expression in his eyes had shifted. No longer did he look anxious and worried; instead his eyes glinted with mirth and as their gazes met something else flared in their depths. She had given up trying to fathom the speed at which his moods changed, but she wasn’t going to let him wrong foot her.
For some reason it mattered that she was the one who reached for him, that her hands curled into his robes to tug him closer. It even seemed important that she was the one who pressed her lips to his – though by the time he was responding urgently the question of who was in charge of the kiss had ceased to matter.
“Promise me you’ll never try to save my life again,” he gasped, pulling his lips away from hers.
“I will not,” she responded, before their mouths crashed together once more.
The sudden flash that heralded Fawkes’ arrival interrupted the increasingly heated embrace. “The Ministry?” She guessed.
“Well, someone has just arrived at the edge of the grounds. Whoever it is, we should, perhaps, postpone our discussion.”
“I think things have progressed slightly beyond the conversational stage Headmaster.”
“Minerva,” she sighed, the tone was back. But she was weary of this endless fight, so instead of arguing she kissed him, hard.
“There has been enough pain and loss for one day. I don’t want us add to it.” His grip on her tightened momentarily and she could only guess what this was doing to him. More than anyone alive he was aware of what Voldemort was capable of – and they both knew that if they continued, even if they tried for secrecy, she would be put at risk. Every instinct must be screaming at him that if he cared about her he should do whatever it took to keep her safe.
“If anything happens to you…” it was there again; the sudden fragility and even she had to admit there was something terrifying about the knowledge that she could weaken the most powerful wizard she knew.
“This could be the one thing that helps us to survive, the light in our darkness. Don’t let’s throw it away.” She cupped his cheek with her palm, breathing his name as her thumb stroked over his lips. His eyes fluttered and he gathered her close again.
“I admit defeat Minerva, this foolish, old man is yours, for as long as you will have him. The heavens may fall; the world may be consumed by Voldemort’s fire – but you and I will live, love and fight side-by-side.” For a moment she wondered if this was another tactic, a way of making her tell him that they shouldn’t take the risk. But when she looked into his eyes she knew that wasn’t the case, his expression was that of a man who had fought a long, hard battle with himself – but who did not fear the consequences of his defeat. And he was right – she would be a most benevolent conqueror.
As they made their way down from the tower her feelings were very different from those that had accompanied her headlong flight earlier. Anticipation and excitement had replaced fear and at the moment of parting the naked longing in his gaze made her sorry she had not forced the issue months ago.
But, for the next little while at least, their paths lay in different directions. His took him to the entrance hall to greet their visitors, while hers lay with the hospital wing, her young charge and then back to Gryffindor tower and the rest of her House. Their parting was quiet; fingers entwining for a moment, soft smiles lingering now their personal battle had been resolved. She glanced over her shoulder to watch his progress - only to find him looking back at her.
She knew that the world was dangerous and that it would be easy for them to let the darkness consume their feelings. But, if she knew anything at all, it was that in admitting their feelings they had taken yet another step in the war against Voldemort. He could destroy everything around them, tear down all they cared about, and even separate them – but he could not alter the fact that they loved.
The End
The way you wrote both Albus and Minerva was spot on and I think you captured all the emotions well. And of course the fluffy bits towards the end...awwwwww.
