Post by ginger newts on Oct 11, 2004 21:01:54 GMT -5
Albus Dumbledore was sitting at his desk with his head bent over a large stack of parchment. To most, he would appear hard at work, but to the woman who knew him best he was brooding. She slipped silently across the room and wrapped her arms around his shoulders from behind.
“Come to be, Albus,” Minerva said softly yet sternly.
Albus sighed, “I’ll be there soon.”
Standing and putting her hands on her hips, Minerva moved to look him in the face. “That’s what you’ve said every night for a month. Some nights you show up at 3 in the morning and other nights you never come to bed at all. I’m putting my foot down this time, Albus. Sitting here all night feeling miserable won’t solve anything and you need your rest if you’re going to be able to cope with what’s coming.”
Gently, but firmly, she took both his hands in hers and pulled Albus to his feet. He was tired and he knew she had his best interest at heart, and what’s more he knew she was right. So he didn’t fight her. Albus dutifully stood up and let Minerva drag him into the bedroom and over to the bed. Ordinarily, they would sleep in her room in case her Gryffindors should need her, but tonight Minerva knew it would be easiest just to get to Albus’ room. There were ways for them to tell if trouble occurred in the tower.
They crawled into the large four-poster bed and Albus turned onto his left side, pillowing his head on Minerva’s bosom and allowing her to hold him and stroke his hair. It was an outward display of the fact that he needed to be comforted, something that had happened rarely in their long relationship but, as with most events, it was still something that could be communicated and accomplished without words. Minerva gladly wrapped her arms around his shoulders and began to run her fingers softly through his long silvery hair. Albus immediately began to feel calmer and stronger from the contact with Minerva and after a few minutes he lifted his head to ask her a question.
“You don’t think I’m doing the right thing, do you?”
Slowly, she gave her answer, “I would never say that, Albus, and you know it. I do think it might be easier on both yourself and Mr. Potter if you gave him some explanation. You don’t have to tell him everything,” she added quickly, cutting off his protests. “I’ve seen how much this is hurting both of you and it’s most painful to Harry because he doesn’t understand. Children need to understand what’s happening to them, they crave reasons for our actions toward them. And you and I both know that young people are capable of handling much more than we give them credit for. I understand why you’re taking your current course of action and if you believe it is for the best then I’m sure it is. I just think you both might feel better with a little more understanding between you.”
She had said all of this softly, gently, without a trace of lecturing in her tone, and had continued stroking his hair. Minerva knew why Albus had been so solemn and why he had been losing so much sleep lately. Even though he had never told her, she knew. It was painful for him to have cut himself off from Harry and even more painful because they knew Harry was misinterpreting his actions. Minerva felt that some explanation should be offered to the boy, but Albus was trying so hard not to burden Harry with truth and unknown possibilities. He wanted so much for Harry to have a chance to be happy and as normal of a fifteen year old boy as he could be. Wanted it so much that he was willing to shoulder extra burdens on Harry’s behalf and to hurt himself by not talking to the boy. It pained Minerva to see him like this, but she knew it was only a fraction of the pain Albus felt. He was already hurting from events that had yet to happen, from the eventuality that he would have to explain everything to Harry and bestow upon him a burden no one should have to carry, least of all a child.
They were silent for a time and then Albus raised his head again, to say “thank you.”
Ordinarily, Minerva would ask what the thanks was for or would protest that none were needed, but tonight she knew what he was thanking her for and knew that it would hurt him further if she did not accept. Albus had felt a need to express his gratefulness for her companionship and understanding, for the way she knew just when to stop him from brooding and just what to say. She had disagreed with him, but still offered support. Minerva wouldn’t go against his wishes on this matter and she wouldn’t push him to change his mind, but she had given him something to think about – an alternative to suffering silently. They both knew he wouldn’t talk to Harry until he absolutely had to, but they both also knew that Minerva would always be there to hold him and night and for that Albus was truly thankful.
They eventually fell asleep, wrapped in each other’s embrace, and slept soundly through the night knowing that tomorrow they would face more difficulties, but they would face them together. Whatever might happen at Hogwarts and beyond, at night Albus and Minerva were just a man and a woman with a lot of love between them, love that would see them safely through the darkest of times to the light that shined, however dimly, on the other side.
“Come to be, Albus,” Minerva said softly yet sternly.
Albus sighed, “I’ll be there soon.”
Standing and putting her hands on her hips, Minerva moved to look him in the face. “That’s what you’ve said every night for a month. Some nights you show up at 3 in the morning and other nights you never come to bed at all. I’m putting my foot down this time, Albus. Sitting here all night feeling miserable won’t solve anything and you need your rest if you’re going to be able to cope with what’s coming.”
Gently, but firmly, she took both his hands in hers and pulled Albus to his feet. He was tired and he knew she had his best interest at heart, and what’s more he knew she was right. So he didn’t fight her. Albus dutifully stood up and let Minerva drag him into the bedroom and over to the bed. Ordinarily, they would sleep in her room in case her Gryffindors should need her, but tonight Minerva knew it would be easiest just to get to Albus’ room. There were ways for them to tell if trouble occurred in the tower.
They crawled into the large four-poster bed and Albus turned onto his left side, pillowing his head on Minerva’s bosom and allowing her to hold him and stroke his hair. It was an outward display of the fact that he needed to be comforted, something that had happened rarely in their long relationship but, as with most events, it was still something that could be communicated and accomplished without words. Minerva gladly wrapped her arms around his shoulders and began to run her fingers softly through his long silvery hair. Albus immediately began to feel calmer and stronger from the contact with Minerva and after a few minutes he lifted his head to ask her a question.
“You don’t think I’m doing the right thing, do you?”
Slowly, she gave her answer, “I would never say that, Albus, and you know it. I do think it might be easier on both yourself and Mr. Potter if you gave him some explanation. You don’t have to tell him everything,” she added quickly, cutting off his protests. “I’ve seen how much this is hurting both of you and it’s most painful to Harry because he doesn’t understand. Children need to understand what’s happening to them, they crave reasons for our actions toward them. And you and I both know that young people are capable of handling much more than we give them credit for. I understand why you’re taking your current course of action and if you believe it is for the best then I’m sure it is. I just think you both might feel better with a little more understanding between you.”
She had said all of this softly, gently, without a trace of lecturing in her tone, and had continued stroking his hair. Minerva knew why Albus had been so solemn and why he had been losing so much sleep lately. Even though he had never told her, she knew. It was painful for him to have cut himself off from Harry and even more painful because they knew Harry was misinterpreting his actions. Minerva felt that some explanation should be offered to the boy, but Albus was trying so hard not to burden Harry with truth and unknown possibilities. He wanted so much for Harry to have a chance to be happy and as normal of a fifteen year old boy as he could be. Wanted it so much that he was willing to shoulder extra burdens on Harry’s behalf and to hurt himself by not talking to the boy. It pained Minerva to see him like this, but she knew it was only a fraction of the pain Albus felt. He was already hurting from events that had yet to happen, from the eventuality that he would have to explain everything to Harry and bestow upon him a burden no one should have to carry, least of all a child.
They were silent for a time and then Albus raised his head again, to say “thank you.”
Ordinarily, Minerva would ask what the thanks was for or would protest that none were needed, but tonight she knew what he was thanking her for and knew that it would hurt him further if she did not accept. Albus had felt a need to express his gratefulness for her companionship and understanding, for the way she knew just when to stop him from brooding and just what to say. She had disagreed with him, but still offered support. Minerva wouldn’t go against his wishes on this matter and she wouldn’t push him to change his mind, but she had given him something to think about – an alternative to suffering silently. They both knew he wouldn’t talk to Harry until he absolutely had to, but they both also knew that Minerva would always be there to hold him and night and for that Albus was truly thankful.
They eventually fell asleep, wrapped in each other’s embrace, and slept soundly through the night knowing that tomorrow they would face more difficulties, but they would face them together. Whatever might happen at Hogwarts and beyond, at night Albus and Minerva were just a man and a woman with a lot of love between them, love that would see them safely through the darkest of times to the light that shined, however dimly, on the other side.
