Post by Hogwarts Duo on Jul 9, 2007 13:26:37 GMT -5
Summary: Recently I was challenged by Lisa (the other half of Hogwarts Duo) and MMADfan with doing a set of drabbles relating to Albus and Minerva. They provided the words and I wrote the little scenes for each one. Each drabble is exactly 100 words (not counting the title word). I hope you enjoy them…oh and they’re safe for everyone! And thanks to Lisa and Adele for the words! 
Train:
Minerva crumpled to the floor in tears, partly from the pain coursing through her body. She was comforted by the warm and caring arms of her mentor, Albus Dumbledore.
“I don’t think I can do this, Professor. Maybe I’m not cut out to be an animagus.” The very thought of that broke her heart.
“Nonsense. Everyone who has tried has experienced some pain and discomfort.” His words healed her body, her soul and even her dampened spirit. “That’s why I’m here, my dear. I’ll be right here every step of the way to train you how to deal with everything.”
Air:
The air grew still as if some magical force willed it to stop in reverence of what was to come. It smelled of lavender and chocolate, lemons and ginger. And they noticed that even the fire in the grate seemed to come to a standstill in the softly lit room as the moment of truth arrived. Twinkling blue eyes locked with dark green ones for a long moment then both looked up at the mistletoe overhead. Slowly, their eyes closed and the distance between their lips lessened until a rush of warm air announced the arrival of their first kiss.
Clover:
Green was the color of the ground beneath them. It was a bright summer day with blue skies and wispy clouds floating above them. Birds chirped in the trees, singing a song older than time. A soft wind blew across the lake, cooling the sunbathers as they enjoyed a quiet afternoon alone. Dandelions danced merrily nearby among the field of green. But neither of them took notice of these things. In the solitude of the moment, the warmth of the sun, and the desire to be together, they lay among the clover, holding each other and whispering words of love.
Sporran:
Minerva wrapped the fur pouch inside a box then adorned it with bright yellow paper. A garish bow sat atop the colorful creation which now resided in the middle of Albus’ desk.
“A surprise…for me? What did I do to deserve a treat?”
“It’s because I love you and there’s something else, but open the package first.”
He did as she suggested but confusion blanketed his face. “What exactly is it?”
“A sporran,” she said frankly. “It goes with this.” She held up a beautiful McGonagall tartan kilt in Albus’ size. “It’s time you met my entire family this weekend.”
Locomotive:
The enormous black metal mode of transportation stood majestically on the tracks. It waited patiently for its precious cargo all the while impatiently working itself into a frenzied state in anticipation of the long journey ahead. This time the trip would be carrying the little ones back to their doting families who had missed them terribly.
Albus and Minerva watched intently as one by one the children boarded the Hogwarts Express locomotive bound for platform 9 ¾. As it began to slowly pull away from the station, his arm stole around her waist. “Let our summer fun begin,” he whispered.
Toothpaste:
Candy flavored or something more practical? This was the toughest decision he had made all day. So much depended on his choice. Thinking ahead to what he hoped would be the glorious events of the night he paused and formed a solution. Yes, that would solve all his problems and it was the easiest way out of his predicament.
“Sweetheart, would you prefer I use the peppermint toothpaste or the lemony one this evening?”
“If you plan on kissing me…peppermint please.” Her gown fell to the floor and she climbed into bed, anxiously awaiting the first of many peppermint kisses.
Bridge:
“Hurry, Tabby! It will be fun.” His eyes danced with mischief as he pulled her along the path towards their destination.
“Why won’t you please tell me where we’re going and why? I was perfectly content to lounge around the cottage with you today.”
“Ah, but this is going to be so much fun. I was reading about it this morning. We have to try it.”
The small wooden bridge arched over a lazy stream before them.
“Let’s play a game of Poohsticks at the bridge where I proposed to you,” he announced happily.
“Reading Winnie-the-Pooh again, weren’t you, Albus?”
Flake:
He cast a warming charm on the settee on their balcony as he waited. She had been detained, giving him ample time to arrange this little surprise for them. Two mugs of mulled mead, heated to perfection, sat nearby along with some of her favorite biscuits.
Stepping out onto the balcony and into his arms, she smiled contentedly as he led her to the sofa. Resting between his legs, her back against his chest and his arms securely around her, she sighed happily.
“Catch a single flake on your tongue,” he whispered as the snow began to fall around them.
Pendulum:
Left. Right. Left. Right. Back and forth. It never abandoned the course it was destined to continue. Never speeding nor slowing the constant motion, only marking the passing of another precious second that she was gone from his sight with each swing. He had wanted to go with her but she insisted he remain in the bedroom. She would be out in a few ticks. How many ticks had it been since she had disappeared behind the door with the clear vial from Poppy? Too many swings of the pendulum, he mused. She opened the door, beaming. “We’re pregnant.”
Buckle:
The weight was almost too much. He tried with all his might to keep his discomfort from showing.
“Are you sure you’re alright, Albus?” Minerva saw the worried expression in his eyes and loved him even more for it. He was a wonderful lover, husband, and expectant father. He was everything to her and more.
“Fine, love, though I think the baby has gained a little weight since I last carried you to bed.” He gently placed her on the bed, kissing her lips and her stomach lovingly, thankful his knees didn’t buckle because of the weight he was carrying.
Cradle:
The wood was cherry and the design was ornate. The inside was softer than the touch of feathers. Still, it sat unused in one corner of the master bedroom. In fact, it hadn’t been used for over one hundred years. Still it stood waiting. And it would wait longer if Albus and Minerva had their way. Their precious newborn daughter was too special to be placed in the cradle. No, her doting parents couldn’t bear to be away from her. So, nestled between the warmth of her parents and the love that sustained them and created her, she slept peacefully.
Carrots:
Why on earth had she left them at lunchtime? Granted he helped create the little wonder and it was partly his responsibility to care for him. And Minerva was overdue for an outing with her friends since his birth. He had not begrudged her some time for herself. But why did the house elves send strained carrots for lunch today? It could’ve been worse. Those little green peas…he shuddered at the thought. Again, he wiped the carrots from his smiling face. As long as he’s happy and clean when Minerva returned he could play with his food all he wanted.
Puncture:
She ran as tears streamed down her face. Her tiny hand carried various bits of color, all attached by a green ribbon. There were too many tears in her eyes to even see her mother as she dashed past her towards to the one man who could make it all better. He opened the door, catching her in his arms.
“Whatever is wrong, my Petal?” He wiped her tears away.
“They’re broke,” she said heartbroken.
Taking the balloons from her hands, he quickly mended the puncture wounds before inflating the balloons once more.
“Good as new!”
“I love you Daddy.”
Plough:
He stood in their garden as they sat on the grass nearby with seeds and bulbs for planting nearby. They watched him intently as he struggled with the muggle contraption and tried desperately to stifle their giggles. His twinkling blue eyes darted to a set of green ones then blue ones which matched his own. A second later the two Dumbledore women erupted in a fit of giggles.
“Remind me again why I’m using this plough?”
“Because you wanted to do this the muggle way for your daughter. Maybe next time you’ll take my advice and use magic, my love.”
Lightning:
The rain beat harshly against the window pane as Minerva snuggled into Albus arms in the middle of the night. She used to love stormy nights spent in his arms and she still did. It was just different now.
“How long until she arrives?” His voice was soft and thick with sleep. He’d been roused from sleep by the clap of thunder outside.
A flash of lightning lit up the room as Minerva summoned their nightclothes, encouraging him to dress quickly. “Not long now,” she answered as she heard the pitter patter of little feet running. “She hates the lightning.”
Vinegar:
He sat at the kitchen table. Teacups with brightly colored water covered the table as he pondered his situation, staring at two dozen eggs, he grumbled. Something wasn’t right and he’d gone over everything in his mind again. He’d been certain he had followed the instructions carefully. Using magic defeated the purpose entirely.
“Something wrong, Love?” Minerva asked, entering the kitchen. He’d been in there for hours and she thought she’d better check on him.
“They’re not taking the color like they’re supposed to,” he grumbled.
Picking up one teacup and sniffing it, she smiled. “You forgot the vinegar dear.”
Fruit:
She had been sitting at his desk trying to handle the correspondence while he helped the Minister. At ten minutes past nine, the first house elf appeared with a tray of chocolate biscuits. At half past ten, another appeared with chocolate frogs and a few ice mice. Quarter to twelve, the little elf appeared with Albus’ weekly supply of sherbet lemons, enough to make anyone sick based on the amount. That was it. She needed to have a word with the elves in the kitchen.
Albus sat down to work. Ten minutes past nine arrived and he sat stunned. “FRUIT?”
Justice:
“You can’t be serious, Professor McGonagall,” he announced with a defiant smirk on his face.
“Oh but I am, Mr. Malfoy. You had no business out after hours. If I am to punish my own Gryffindors for being out after curfew, then surely you must endure the same punishment. It’s only fair, after all.”
He looked at her with contempt. “My father will hear about this!”
“Indeed he will. I have already drafted letters home for each of you.” Minerva smiled. She loved it when she was given the chance to measure out a bit of justice among the students.
Bark:
Tall and majestic. Fierce and menacing. It depended on the day and the visitor. But there was something that willow tree had which made it special. It was something only two people knew existed. The moment they heard Harry and Ron had crashed into the Whomping Willow, they cringed. Was it still there? Had it been damaged? They’d have to wait until nightfall to see.
It was created in a moment of passion and frivolity, with the permission of the tree of course. They smiled as they drank in the sight of it unharmed. Carved in the bark: ADMM Forever.
*Hope you enjoyed the little snippets in time for Albus and Minerva. Thanks for taking the time to read them.
Train:
Minerva crumpled to the floor in tears, partly from the pain coursing through her body. She was comforted by the warm and caring arms of her mentor, Albus Dumbledore.
“I don’t think I can do this, Professor. Maybe I’m not cut out to be an animagus.” The very thought of that broke her heart.
“Nonsense. Everyone who has tried has experienced some pain and discomfort.” His words healed her body, her soul and even her dampened spirit. “That’s why I’m here, my dear. I’ll be right here every step of the way to train you how to deal with everything.”
Air:
The air grew still as if some magical force willed it to stop in reverence of what was to come. It smelled of lavender and chocolate, lemons and ginger. And they noticed that even the fire in the grate seemed to come to a standstill in the softly lit room as the moment of truth arrived. Twinkling blue eyes locked with dark green ones for a long moment then both looked up at the mistletoe overhead. Slowly, their eyes closed and the distance between their lips lessened until a rush of warm air announced the arrival of their first kiss.
Clover:
Green was the color of the ground beneath them. It was a bright summer day with blue skies and wispy clouds floating above them. Birds chirped in the trees, singing a song older than time. A soft wind blew across the lake, cooling the sunbathers as they enjoyed a quiet afternoon alone. Dandelions danced merrily nearby among the field of green. But neither of them took notice of these things. In the solitude of the moment, the warmth of the sun, and the desire to be together, they lay among the clover, holding each other and whispering words of love.
Sporran:
Minerva wrapped the fur pouch inside a box then adorned it with bright yellow paper. A garish bow sat atop the colorful creation which now resided in the middle of Albus’ desk.
“A surprise…for me? What did I do to deserve a treat?”
“It’s because I love you and there’s something else, but open the package first.”
He did as she suggested but confusion blanketed his face. “What exactly is it?”
“A sporran,” she said frankly. “It goes with this.” She held up a beautiful McGonagall tartan kilt in Albus’ size. “It’s time you met my entire family this weekend.”
Locomotive:
The enormous black metal mode of transportation stood majestically on the tracks. It waited patiently for its precious cargo all the while impatiently working itself into a frenzied state in anticipation of the long journey ahead. This time the trip would be carrying the little ones back to their doting families who had missed them terribly.
Albus and Minerva watched intently as one by one the children boarded the Hogwarts Express locomotive bound for platform 9 ¾. As it began to slowly pull away from the station, his arm stole around her waist. “Let our summer fun begin,” he whispered.
Toothpaste:
Candy flavored or something more practical? This was the toughest decision he had made all day. So much depended on his choice. Thinking ahead to what he hoped would be the glorious events of the night he paused and formed a solution. Yes, that would solve all his problems and it was the easiest way out of his predicament.
“Sweetheart, would you prefer I use the peppermint toothpaste or the lemony one this evening?”
“If you plan on kissing me…peppermint please.” Her gown fell to the floor and she climbed into bed, anxiously awaiting the first of many peppermint kisses.
Bridge:
“Hurry, Tabby! It will be fun.” His eyes danced with mischief as he pulled her along the path towards their destination.
“Why won’t you please tell me where we’re going and why? I was perfectly content to lounge around the cottage with you today.”
“Ah, but this is going to be so much fun. I was reading about it this morning. We have to try it.”
The small wooden bridge arched over a lazy stream before them.
“Let’s play a game of Poohsticks at the bridge where I proposed to you,” he announced happily.
“Reading Winnie-the-Pooh again, weren’t you, Albus?”
Flake:
He cast a warming charm on the settee on their balcony as he waited. She had been detained, giving him ample time to arrange this little surprise for them. Two mugs of mulled mead, heated to perfection, sat nearby along with some of her favorite biscuits.
Stepping out onto the balcony and into his arms, she smiled contentedly as he led her to the sofa. Resting between his legs, her back against his chest and his arms securely around her, she sighed happily.
“Catch a single flake on your tongue,” he whispered as the snow began to fall around them.
Pendulum:
Left. Right. Left. Right. Back and forth. It never abandoned the course it was destined to continue. Never speeding nor slowing the constant motion, only marking the passing of another precious second that she was gone from his sight with each swing. He had wanted to go with her but she insisted he remain in the bedroom. She would be out in a few ticks. How many ticks had it been since she had disappeared behind the door with the clear vial from Poppy? Too many swings of the pendulum, he mused. She opened the door, beaming. “We’re pregnant.”
Buckle:
The weight was almost too much. He tried with all his might to keep his discomfort from showing.
“Are you sure you’re alright, Albus?” Minerva saw the worried expression in his eyes and loved him even more for it. He was a wonderful lover, husband, and expectant father. He was everything to her and more.
“Fine, love, though I think the baby has gained a little weight since I last carried you to bed.” He gently placed her on the bed, kissing her lips and her stomach lovingly, thankful his knees didn’t buckle because of the weight he was carrying.
Cradle:
The wood was cherry and the design was ornate. The inside was softer than the touch of feathers. Still, it sat unused in one corner of the master bedroom. In fact, it hadn’t been used for over one hundred years. Still it stood waiting. And it would wait longer if Albus and Minerva had their way. Their precious newborn daughter was too special to be placed in the cradle. No, her doting parents couldn’t bear to be away from her. So, nestled between the warmth of her parents and the love that sustained them and created her, she slept peacefully.
Carrots:
Why on earth had she left them at lunchtime? Granted he helped create the little wonder and it was partly his responsibility to care for him. And Minerva was overdue for an outing with her friends since his birth. He had not begrudged her some time for herself. But why did the house elves send strained carrots for lunch today? It could’ve been worse. Those little green peas…he shuddered at the thought. Again, he wiped the carrots from his smiling face. As long as he’s happy and clean when Minerva returned he could play with his food all he wanted.
Puncture:
She ran as tears streamed down her face. Her tiny hand carried various bits of color, all attached by a green ribbon. There were too many tears in her eyes to even see her mother as she dashed past her towards to the one man who could make it all better. He opened the door, catching her in his arms.
“Whatever is wrong, my Petal?” He wiped her tears away.
“They’re broke,” she said heartbroken.
Taking the balloons from her hands, he quickly mended the puncture wounds before inflating the balloons once more.
“Good as new!”
“I love you Daddy.”
Plough:
He stood in their garden as they sat on the grass nearby with seeds and bulbs for planting nearby. They watched him intently as he struggled with the muggle contraption and tried desperately to stifle their giggles. His twinkling blue eyes darted to a set of green ones then blue ones which matched his own. A second later the two Dumbledore women erupted in a fit of giggles.
“Remind me again why I’m using this plough?”
“Because you wanted to do this the muggle way for your daughter. Maybe next time you’ll take my advice and use magic, my love.”
Lightning:
The rain beat harshly against the window pane as Minerva snuggled into Albus arms in the middle of the night. She used to love stormy nights spent in his arms and she still did. It was just different now.
“How long until she arrives?” His voice was soft and thick with sleep. He’d been roused from sleep by the clap of thunder outside.
A flash of lightning lit up the room as Minerva summoned their nightclothes, encouraging him to dress quickly. “Not long now,” she answered as she heard the pitter patter of little feet running. “She hates the lightning.”
Vinegar:
He sat at the kitchen table. Teacups with brightly colored water covered the table as he pondered his situation, staring at two dozen eggs, he grumbled. Something wasn’t right and he’d gone over everything in his mind again. He’d been certain he had followed the instructions carefully. Using magic defeated the purpose entirely.
“Something wrong, Love?” Minerva asked, entering the kitchen. He’d been in there for hours and she thought she’d better check on him.
“They’re not taking the color like they’re supposed to,” he grumbled.
Picking up one teacup and sniffing it, she smiled. “You forgot the vinegar dear.”
Fruit:
She had been sitting at his desk trying to handle the correspondence while he helped the Minister. At ten minutes past nine, the first house elf appeared with a tray of chocolate biscuits. At half past ten, another appeared with chocolate frogs and a few ice mice. Quarter to twelve, the little elf appeared with Albus’ weekly supply of sherbet lemons, enough to make anyone sick based on the amount. That was it. She needed to have a word with the elves in the kitchen.
Albus sat down to work. Ten minutes past nine arrived and he sat stunned. “FRUIT?”
Justice:
“You can’t be serious, Professor McGonagall,” he announced with a defiant smirk on his face.
“Oh but I am, Mr. Malfoy. You had no business out after hours. If I am to punish my own Gryffindors for being out after curfew, then surely you must endure the same punishment. It’s only fair, after all.”
He looked at her with contempt. “My father will hear about this!”
“Indeed he will. I have already drafted letters home for each of you.” Minerva smiled. She loved it when she was given the chance to measure out a bit of justice among the students.
Bark:
Tall and majestic. Fierce and menacing. It depended on the day and the visitor. But there was something that willow tree had which made it special. It was something only two people knew existed. The moment they heard Harry and Ron had crashed into the Whomping Willow, they cringed. Was it still there? Had it been damaged? They’d have to wait until nightfall to see.
It was created in a moment of passion and frivolity, with the permission of the tree of course. They smiled as they drank in the sight of it unharmed. Carved in the bark: ADMM Forever.
*Hope you enjoyed the little snippets in time for Albus and Minerva. Thanks for taking the time to read them.
