Post by pinnacle on Jan 7, 2011 0:04:18 GMT -5
Written for dianahawthorne in this year's Secret Santa exchange. 
As You Sleep
G, 779 words
Minerva was marking her last stack of essays for the night when the silver phoenix darted into her sitting room and she heard Albus's voice.
"Minerva, I've just returned. May I see you in my quarters for a moment?"
She glanced at the clock as the Patronus faded. It was just past midnight. He had been gone for exactly one week.
---
"Albus. Welcome back."
He looked up from a collection of papers in his hands, and it was his momentary smile that showed her how frightfully tired he was, his face shifting from a pinched, heavy expression and back again. "Thank you, Minerva. It is good to be home," he said, gaze returning to the parchment, and even his voice sounded faint. She walked forward to straighten his traveling cloak, which had slipped from the arm of a chair.
"What is it, Albus? Did you find anything?" she asked, curious.
"In Albania? Oh, nothing. Nothing at all, I'm afraid."
Minerva frowned slightly, but Albus didn't elaborate. He sighed, letting the papers fall with a flop onto the table. Motioning her toward an armchair, he himself dropped onto the adjacent sofa with a quiet groan of relief. Minerva sat, struggling to decide which of her many questions to ask him first. When was the last time he slept? What was he expecting to find in Albania and what did it have to do with You-Know-Who? Why did he need to see her now? Did he know how much she'd missed him?
Well, no. That last one would be better left unsaid, she thought. She decided on: "Exactly when was the last time you got any rest?"
"To be quite honest, Minerva, I don't remember. Please excuse me," he added, lifting his legs onto the sofa and stretching out on his back.
Minerva directed an indignant huff at the back of his head. "You're not out of this yet, Dumbledore. Were you not so obviously exhausted, I'd be lecturing you on getting proper rest. You realize you can't go around fighting this war if you're under constant threat of dropping dead of exhaustion."
"This does sound like a lecture," Albus murmured. She couldn't see his face, but the smile was evident in his voice.
"That's just a taste -- you'll get the rest of it in the morning," she said. "Speaking of which, what couldn't wait until then? I was still awake, but you could have simply gone straight to bed."
"Well, I could have, but I was hoping to have a chat with you."
"About what?"
"Hogwarts. My omniscience unfortunately escapes me when I'm away, you see."
"Is that so?" she replied dryly.
For a moment he didn't respond, and Minerva worried that he had fallen asleep. But presently he hummed in affirmation; then, after another pause, he added in a low mumble, "Also, I've missed you."
Taken aback, she said nothing in direct reply to this and shifted in her seat, oddly feeling self-conscious. "Well. There were no real incidents, I suppose. Though Mr. Filch's cat -- Mrs. Whatsit -- got her tail caught in a door Tuesday, and he swore it was Sirius Black who did it. I know Black is innocent -- well, relatively -- because he was having detention with me at the time -- and I can tell you from personal experience that I've seen slugs with more intelligence than that cat -- but Filch is still howling at me to do something about it. You'd better have a word with him, Albus, it's terribly inconvenient having to avoid him on the way to supper."
She paused, then leaned forward a bit. Through the dim light she could make out the side of Albus's face; his eyes were closed.
"You're asleep, aren't you," she said softly.
His reply came in the form of deep, steady breathing. With a slight smile, Minerva got to her feet and reached for her wand. In a matter of seconds she had transfigured the sofa on which he lay into a bed and draped a cushion-turned-blanket over his form. She hesitated, then transfigured another cushion into a large pillow and, carefully lifting Albus's head, slid the pillow beneath it.
As she leaned back and looked into his sleeping face for the first time, soft and vulnerable in slumber, she had a strange and sudden feeling of something akin to ownership. She could kiss him right there if she wanted to, and it would be as if she were giving her lover or spouse a goodnight kiss.
After a long moment, she straightened up slowly.
"I've missed you, too."
She turned and, smiling once more, left for her own quarters.
As You Sleep
G, 779 words
Minerva was marking her last stack of essays for the night when the silver phoenix darted into her sitting room and she heard Albus's voice.
"Minerva, I've just returned. May I see you in my quarters for a moment?"
She glanced at the clock as the Patronus faded. It was just past midnight. He had been gone for exactly one week.
---
"Albus. Welcome back."
He looked up from a collection of papers in his hands, and it was his momentary smile that showed her how frightfully tired he was, his face shifting from a pinched, heavy expression and back again. "Thank you, Minerva. It is good to be home," he said, gaze returning to the parchment, and even his voice sounded faint. She walked forward to straighten his traveling cloak, which had slipped from the arm of a chair.
"What is it, Albus? Did you find anything?" she asked, curious.
"In Albania? Oh, nothing. Nothing at all, I'm afraid."
Minerva frowned slightly, but Albus didn't elaborate. He sighed, letting the papers fall with a flop onto the table. Motioning her toward an armchair, he himself dropped onto the adjacent sofa with a quiet groan of relief. Minerva sat, struggling to decide which of her many questions to ask him first. When was the last time he slept? What was he expecting to find in Albania and what did it have to do with You-Know-Who? Why did he need to see her now? Did he know how much she'd missed him?
Well, no. That last one would be better left unsaid, she thought. She decided on: "Exactly when was the last time you got any rest?"
"To be quite honest, Minerva, I don't remember. Please excuse me," he added, lifting his legs onto the sofa and stretching out on his back.
Minerva directed an indignant huff at the back of his head. "You're not out of this yet, Dumbledore. Were you not so obviously exhausted, I'd be lecturing you on getting proper rest. You realize you can't go around fighting this war if you're under constant threat of dropping dead of exhaustion."
"This does sound like a lecture," Albus murmured. She couldn't see his face, but the smile was evident in his voice.
"That's just a taste -- you'll get the rest of it in the morning," she said. "Speaking of which, what couldn't wait until then? I was still awake, but you could have simply gone straight to bed."
"Well, I could have, but I was hoping to have a chat with you."
"About what?"
"Hogwarts. My omniscience unfortunately escapes me when I'm away, you see."
"Is that so?" she replied dryly.
For a moment he didn't respond, and Minerva worried that he had fallen asleep. But presently he hummed in affirmation; then, after another pause, he added in a low mumble, "Also, I've missed you."
Taken aback, she said nothing in direct reply to this and shifted in her seat, oddly feeling self-conscious. "Well. There were no real incidents, I suppose. Though Mr. Filch's cat -- Mrs. Whatsit -- got her tail caught in a door Tuesday, and he swore it was Sirius Black who did it. I know Black is innocent -- well, relatively -- because he was having detention with me at the time -- and I can tell you from personal experience that I've seen slugs with more intelligence than that cat -- but Filch is still howling at me to do something about it. You'd better have a word with him, Albus, it's terribly inconvenient having to avoid him on the way to supper."
She paused, then leaned forward a bit. Through the dim light she could make out the side of Albus's face; his eyes were closed.
"You're asleep, aren't you," she said softly.
His reply came in the form of deep, steady breathing. With a slight smile, Minerva got to her feet and reached for her wand. In a matter of seconds she had transfigured the sofa on which he lay into a bed and draped a cushion-turned-blanket over his form. She hesitated, then transfigured another cushion into a large pillow and, carefully lifting Albus's head, slid the pillow beneath it.
As she leaned back and looked into his sleeping face for the first time, soft and vulnerable in slumber, she had a strange and sudden feeling of something akin to ownership. She could kiss him right there if she wanted to, and it would be as if she were giving her lover or spouse a goodnight kiss.
After a long moment, she straightened up slowly.
"I've missed you, too."
She turned and, smiling once more, left for her own quarters.
