Post by childminerva on Sept 1, 2006 14:35:39 GMT -5
Title: Eleven Roses
Summary: Minerva recieves a bouquet of only eleven roses-find out why.
Rating: Nothing bad, except a broken heart.
Disclaimer: The characters belong to JKR, the song belongs to Hank Williams Jr.
A/N: I know there are similar ADMM fics out there but I heard this song the other day and knew I should use it for a fic. I've used almost all the lyrics in the story, leave me a note and let me know what you think.
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There was a knock at the office door, causing Minerva McGonagall to jump. She had been sitting at her new desk for the past two hours, lost in thought. Not having the strength to get up and answer the door she merely called out for whomever it was to enter.
It was a tiny house-elf and it was carrying a bouquet of red roses and a scroll of parchment.
“Excuse me, headmistress,” said the house-elf in a voice no louder than a whisper, “but these appeared down in the kitchens. The note is addressed to you.”
Minerva had flinched at the sound of her new title and now looked in surprise at the flowers.
“To me?” she asked, eyeing them suspiciously. “How did they come to be in the kitchens?”
“Lodi is not knowing that, headmistress. Lodi is only bringing them to you.”
Minerva frowned and accepted the bouquet and the note.
“Thank you, er, Lodi. You may go.”
The little house-elf bowed and disappeared with a tiny “pop .
Laying the flowers on the desk, Minerva prepared to open the scroll but stopped and stared at the flowers. They were bound with a thin black ribbon and it had come undone, allowing the flowers to spread apart. Something about the roses seemed strange to Minerva. She counted them and found to her surprise that there was only eleven.
“Odd, I though it was customary to send someone twelve roses,” she murmured.
Intrigued, Minerva opened the note. A small sound of pain escaped her lips as she read the first few words, indeed she felt as if she had been punched in the chest.
My beloved Minerva,
I’m sure you noticed there are only eleven roses, take them and look in the mirror where the twelfth rose will be looking back at you. There is just something about a spray of roses. To a woman, they say more than man can say. After what I’ve done you may not keep the roses, I just thought I would send them anyway. I know that no amount of flowers could possibly ease the pain I have caused you.
You will only be reading this letter if I have failed in one of my attempts to stop Voldemort. I know it seems unfair that we should be parted so soon after confessing our true feelings to one another but take comfort in the thought that we will one day be reunited. Until that blessed day, know that I love you with all that I am or ever strove to be. Please know that I did what I felt was best for all those we hold dear and, yes, for you as well. Do not let your grief and anger control your emotions. Be strong, my Minerva, for the fight will not soon be over and there are those that still need you in this world.
Yours in life and ever after,
Albus
Minerva let the note fall from her hand then rose slowly from her chair and gathered the roses in her arms. She walked across the office and into the bedroom that had once belonged to Albus Dumbledore. Minerva had been unable to bring herself to enter the room since his death; it was painful enough to sit in his office.
When she reached the mirror hanging atop his dresser she stopped and gazed at her reflection. A pale face framed by wisps of black hair looked back at her overtop a spray of red roses.
Twelve roses, she thought bitterly.
With a deep sigh of resignation, Minerva buried her face in the roses. Then she sobbed.
The End
Summary: Minerva recieves a bouquet of only eleven roses-find out why.
Rating: Nothing bad, except a broken heart.
Disclaimer: The characters belong to JKR, the song belongs to Hank Williams Jr.
A/N: I know there are similar ADMM fics out there but I heard this song the other day and knew I should use it for a fic. I've used almost all the lyrics in the story, leave me a note and let me know what you think.
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There was a knock at the office door, causing Minerva McGonagall to jump. She had been sitting at her new desk for the past two hours, lost in thought. Not having the strength to get up and answer the door she merely called out for whomever it was to enter.
It was a tiny house-elf and it was carrying a bouquet of red roses and a scroll of parchment.
“Excuse me, headmistress,” said the house-elf in a voice no louder than a whisper, “but these appeared down in the kitchens. The note is addressed to you.”
Minerva had flinched at the sound of her new title and now looked in surprise at the flowers.
“To me?” she asked, eyeing them suspiciously. “How did they come to be in the kitchens?”
“Lodi is not knowing that, headmistress. Lodi is only bringing them to you.”
Minerva frowned and accepted the bouquet and the note.
“Thank you, er, Lodi. You may go.”
The little house-elf bowed and disappeared with a tiny “pop .
Laying the flowers on the desk, Minerva prepared to open the scroll but stopped and stared at the flowers. They were bound with a thin black ribbon and it had come undone, allowing the flowers to spread apart. Something about the roses seemed strange to Minerva. She counted them and found to her surprise that there was only eleven.
“Odd, I though it was customary to send someone twelve roses,” she murmured.
Intrigued, Minerva opened the note. A small sound of pain escaped her lips as she read the first few words, indeed she felt as if she had been punched in the chest.
My beloved Minerva,
I’m sure you noticed there are only eleven roses, take them and look in the mirror where the twelfth rose will be looking back at you. There is just something about a spray of roses. To a woman, they say more than man can say. After what I’ve done you may not keep the roses, I just thought I would send them anyway. I know that no amount of flowers could possibly ease the pain I have caused you.
You will only be reading this letter if I have failed in one of my attempts to stop Voldemort. I know it seems unfair that we should be parted so soon after confessing our true feelings to one another but take comfort in the thought that we will one day be reunited. Until that blessed day, know that I love you with all that I am or ever strove to be. Please know that I did what I felt was best for all those we hold dear and, yes, for you as well. Do not let your grief and anger control your emotions. Be strong, my Minerva, for the fight will not soon be over and there are those that still need you in this world.
Yours in life and ever after,
Albus
Minerva let the note fall from her hand then rose slowly from her chair and gathered the roses in her arms. She walked across the office and into the bedroom that had once belonged to Albus Dumbledore. Minerva had been unable to bring herself to enter the room since his death; it was painful enough to sit in his office.
When she reached the mirror hanging atop his dresser she stopped and gazed at her reflection. A pale face framed by wisps of black hair looked back at her overtop a spray of red roses.
Twelve roses, she thought bitterly.
With a deep sigh of resignation, Minerva buried her face in the roses. Then she sobbed.
The End
xXx 