Post by The Anglophile on Jul 16, 2007 14:26:43 GMT -5
A/N: I wrote this for the songfic contest over at the Hideaway and am posting it here because it turned out way too freaking long and I would feel really bad posting the whole thing in the contest thread. >_<
Anyway. I don't like this one, it's...eh. I always have problems writing songfics. And I'm not terribly fond of student Minerva/Albus fics, but I had no better plot bunnies attacking me. So here it is.
Title: Over My Head
Summary: Songfic for "Over My Head (Cable Car)," by The Fray. Angsty!Albus has feelings for a student...
Rating: T. Because it's kind of a mature theme? Yeah. In case you haven't gotten the hints, here's a big flashy warning about the student/professor relationship thing, even though they don't get involved while she's a student. Wow, rambly.
“Albus?” Armando Dippet glanced up from his stack of letters to see the Transfiguration professor slip into his office. “What brings you here so early?” Dippet had reason to be confused—it was six in the morning, and he was rarely interrupted in his early morning mail-reading ritual.
“I have a problem, Armando,” Albus said gravely. It was clear that something was wrong; the customary twinkle was absent from Albus’s eyes and his face was hoary and lined with anxiety.
“Well sit down,” Dippet said, standing up and waving at a chair before his desk because he didn’t know what else to do. Albus sank into the chair and rubbed his forehead. “What on earth is the matter, Albus?”
“I don’t know what to do. I came to you because I thought you could advise me, but…it’s difficult,” he shook his head. “I’ve recently…” he trailed off and swallowed as though something bitter were lodged in his throat.
“Well, what?”
“I’ve recently—very recently—found myself attracted to a seventh year girl,” Albus said quietly, anguish etched on his face. Dippet’s jaw dropped.
I never knew
I never knew that everything was falling through,
That everyone was waiting on a cue
To turn and run when all I needed was the truth.
“I know it’s wrong, and I’d never act on it or take advantage of her, you know that,” Albus said quickly and vehemently. “I just don’t know how to get these…feelings out of my head.”
“I know you’d never do anything, Albus,” Dippet said slowly, still shocked. “But…Albus, a student?”
“I’m not proud of it, Armando!” he snapped. “I came to you because I thought you could help me!” Dippet, however, did not seem to have this on his mind.
“Who is she, Albus?”
“That I will not say,” he said darkly. “I don’t want her to find out.”
But that’s how it’s got to be.
It’s coming down to nothing more than apathy.
I’d rather run the other way than stay and see
The smoke and who’s still standing when it clears.
“Oh, of course, I understand,” Dippet nodded.
“Please, Armando. I came to seek your advice. I must beg that you do not tell anyone what I have confided in you,” Albus said sternly. Dippet rose from his chair and walked around to put a comforting hand on Albus’s shoulder.
“Of course, my friend,” he said with uncharacteristic depth. “You have my word, I will be discreet.”
Albus always liked to think he could trust Dippet, but over the next few days, he caught several staff members eying him with suspicion and disgust. He couldn’t blame them. He disgusted himself. But it wasn’t lust, he at least knew that. It was deeper than lust, though he wouldn’t let himself call it what it really was. Albus Dumbledore in love with his star pupil? Impossible.
Everyone knows I’m in
Over my head
Over my head.
With eight seconds left in overtime,
She’s on your mind,
She’s on your mind.
“I’ll just forget the whole thing, Fawkes,” Albus said softly, pacing around a deserted corridor. Fawkes, who was perched on his shoulder, nudged his head reassuringly.
Several days had passed since he had spoken to Dippet, but the confession had not, as he had hoped, lifted the weight from his chest. He avoided everyone, ashamed and depressed. Why did perfection have to take the shape of a student?
“It’s only three weeks until they graduate,” he continued, still talking quietly to the phoenix. “Then I can pretend this never happened. She’ll never have to know.”
He sighed heavily and stopped at a window, gazing out at the sunlight grounds and the students who dotted the grass but seeing none of it.
“I’m such a fool.”
“Professor Dumbledore, you are many things, but ‘fool’ is not one of them.” Albus jumped and turned to see Minerva McGonagall standing just at the end of the hall, evidently just having rounded the corner.
“Miss McGonagall!” he cried, horrified.
“I’m sorry, I only heard that last bit,” she said quickly, blushing. “I just thought I should make myself known so I couldn’t be accused of eavesdropping.”
He stared at her.
“I’m sorry,” she said again, looking genuinely worried.
“No, it’s—it’s all right,” he murmured. She still looked uneasy, so he grinned and beckoned her to his side. This was a mistake. A relieved smile lit up her face and he instantly felt weak in the knees.
It was Minerva, of course. Who else could it be?
Let’s rearrange.
I wish you were a stranger I could disengage.
Just say that we agree and then never change,
Soften a bit until we all just get along.
“Why do you think you’re a fool, Professor?” Minerva asked tentatively.
“Typical Gryffindor,” he shook his head, half laughing. “I couldn’t possibly burden you with that, Minerva.”
“I don’t have much to worry about, Professor,” she smiled kindly. “I wouldn’t mind, if you need to talk.”
“That is very kind of you, Minerva, but Fawkes is confidante enough for me,” he smiled, but his voice was weak and she bit her lower lip, frowning with concern for him. She was terribly close. It would be so simple to reach out and take her face in his hands…
“I’m sure you have a better way to spend your afternoon, Miss McGonagall,” he said, rather cold. Minerva looked at the floor, he face pale. “Didn’t I assign your class an essay?”
“I’ve already finished it,” she said, her voice equally formal. She met his gaze almost defiantly, her eyes icy and her jaw set. “Good afternoon, Professor.” She spun around and sped away, her shoes clicking sharply on the marble.
But that’s disregard.
Find another friend and you discard
As you lose the argument in a cable car
Hanging above as the canyon comes between.
He had to be cold, he reasoned to himself as the echoes of her steps faded away. He had to push her away and distance himself from her or he would end up hurting them both.
Everyone knows I’m in
Over my head,
Over my head.
With eight seconds left in overtime,
She’s on your mind,
She’s on your mind.
The last three weeks of term dragged past, every moment around Minerva torturous. Despite his best efforts, Albus could not rid himself of his feelings for the girl.
Now she was graduating. Minerva would go off and lead a spectacular life, he thought, watching her from across the Great Hall. A spectacular life, he said again to himself, far away from him. Tonight, he knew, he could not be cold and distant, no matter how hard he tried.
And suddenly, I’m becoming a part of your past,
I’m becoming the part that don’t last.
I’m losing you and it’s effortless.
She was glowing. He found every excuse to talk to her, to soak up her radiance and commit her face to his memory. Suddenly, he realised what he was doing. He would never be able to forget his feelings for her if he behaved this way. He excused himself and fled to the edge of the gardens, getting as far away from everyone as possible.
He didn’t expect her to follow him.
“Do you have to walk so fast?” She was breathless and wisps of her hair were slipping out of her French twist. She smiled at him quizzically. “Are you all right?”
“It’s nothing you should care about, Miss McGonagall,” he said, wishing she would go, not trusting himself in this secluded, starlit garden.
“I can’t help it,” she said, stepping closer. “I do care.”
Albus couldn’t breathe, let alone reply. The next thing he knew, Minerva was pulling his face close and kissing him. And he was kissing her back.
Without a sound we lose sight of the ground
In the throw around
Never thought that you wanted to bring it down.
I won’t let it go down till we torch it ourselves.
He lost his head for a moment, unable to think properly due to the energy coursing through his body. Finally he realised what was happening and pushed her away.
“What are you doing?” he whispered angrily.
“Typical Gryffindor,” she gave him that nervous grin again. “I thought that since I’m no longer your student—”
“You are still a child!” he said hoarsely. Her face fell.
And everyone knows I’m in
Over my head,
Over my head.
With eight seconds left in overtime,
She’s on your mind,
She’s on your mind.
“It is completely inappropriate. We must not—”
“Feel this way?” she snapped, tears welling up in her eyes. She gave a short, desperate laugh and shook her head. “It’s not that simple,” she tried to glare at him, but her whole body was trembling.
“I’m sorry, Minerva, it’s impossible.”
“Goodbye, Professor,” she said as steadily as she could manage, turning away and disappearing around the corner.
Everyone knows
She’s on your mind.
Everyone knows I’m in over my head,
I’m in over my head,
I’m in over…
Fourteen years later, Albus showed his new Transfiguration professor to her rooms after her first day in the castle. She paused at the door, hesitating to speak. Finally, she drew in a deep breath and looked up at him nervously.
“Is it still impossible, Albus?”
He stared at her for a moment. She was no longer the bold seventeen-year-old girl who had kissed him, of whom people could accuse him of taking advantage. She was a grown woman, lovelier and more confident than ever. The colour was steadily rising in her face and she opened her mouth to apologise, but he cut her off.
“No, Minerva. It is not.”
Everyone knows I’m in
Over my head,
Over my head.
With eight seconds left in overtime,
She’s on your mind,
She’s on your mind.
A/N: I just have to ask, does the URL for the songfics board say "board=snogfic" on purpose? Either way, I like it...
Anyway. I don't like this one, it's...eh. I always have problems writing songfics. And I'm not terribly fond of student Minerva/Albus fics, but I had no better plot bunnies attacking me. So here it is.
Title: Over My Head
Summary: Songfic for "Over My Head (Cable Car)," by The Fray. Angsty!Albus has feelings for a student...
Rating: T. Because it's kind of a mature theme? Yeah. In case you haven't gotten the hints, here's a big flashy warning about the student/professor relationship thing, even though they don't get involved while she's a student. Wow, rambly.
Over My Head
[/b]“Albus?” Armando Dippet glanced up from his stack of letters to see the Transfiguration professor slip into his office. “What brings you here so early?” Dippet had reason to be confused—it was six in the morning, and he was rarely interrupted in his early morning mail-reading ritual.
“I have a problem, Armando,” Albus said gravely. It was clear that something was wrong; the customary twinkle was absent from Albus’s eyes and his face was hoary and lined with anxiety.
“Well sit down,” Dippet said, standing up and waving at a chair before his desk because he didn’t know what else to do. Albus sank into the chair and rubbed his forehead. “What on earth is the matter, Albus?”
“I don’t know what to do. I came to you because I thought you could advise me, but…it’s difficult,” he shook his head. “I’ve recently…” he trailed off and swallowed as though something bitter were lodged in his throat.
“Well, what?”
“I’ve recently—very recently—found myself attracted to a seventh year girl,” Albus said quietly, anguish etched on his face. Dippet’s jaw dropped.
I never knew
I never knew that everything was falling through,
That everyone was waiting on a cue
To turn and run when all I needed was the truth.
“I know it’s wrong, and I’d never act on it or take advantage of her, you know that,” Albus said quickly and vehemently. “I just don’t know how to get these…feelings out of my head.”
“I know you’d never do anything, Albus,” Dippet said slowly, still shocked. “But…Albus, a student?”
“I’m not proud of it, Armando!” he snapped. “I came to you because I thought you could help me!” Dippet, however, did not seem to have this on his mind.
“Who is she, Albus?”
“That I will not say,” he said darkly. “I don’t want her to find out.”
But that’s how it’s got to be.
It’s coming down to nothing more than apathy.
I’d rather run the other way than stay and see
The smoke and who’s still standing when it clears.
“Oh, of course, I understand,” Dippet nodded.
“Please, Armando. I came to seek your advice. I must beg that you do not tell anyone what I have confided in you,” Albus said sternly. Dippet rose from his chair and walked around to put a comforting hand on Albus’s shoulder.
“Of course, my friend,” he said with uncharacteristic depth. “You have my word, I will be discreet.”
Albus always liked to think he could trust Dippet, but over the next few days, he caught several staff members eying him with suspicion and disgust. He couldn’t blame them. He disgusted himself. But it wasn’t lust, he at least knew that. It was deeper than lust, though he wouldn’t let himself call it what it really was. Albus Dumbledore in love with his star pupil? Impossible.
Everyone knows I’m in
Over my head
Over my head.
With eight seconds left in overtime,
She’s on your mind,
She’s on your mind.
“I’ll just forget the whole thing, Fawkes,” Albus said softly, pacing around a deserted corridor. Fawkes, who was perched on his shoulder, nudged his head reassuringly.
Several days had passed since he had spoken to Dippet, but the confession had not, as he had hoped, lifted the weight from his chest. He avoided everyone, ashamed and depressed. Why did perfection have to take the shape of a student?
“It’s only three weeks until they graduate,” he continued, still talking quietly to the phoenix. “Then I can pretend this never happened. She’ll never have to know.”
He sighed heavily and stopped at a window, gazing out at the sunlight grounds and the students who dotted the grass but seeing none of it.
“I’m such a fool.”
“Professor Dumbledore, you are many things, but ‘fool’ is not one of them.” Albus jumped and turned to see Minerva McGonagall standing just at the end of the hall, evidently just having rounded the corner.
“Miss McGonagall!” he cried, horrified.
“I’m sorry, I only heard that last bit,” she said quickly, blushing. “I just thought I should make myself known so I couldn’t be accused of eavesdropping.”
He stared at her.
“I’m sorry,” she said again, looking genuinely worried.
“No, it’s—it’s all right,” he murmured. She still looked uneasy, so he grinned and beckoned her to his side. This was a mistake. A relieved smile lit up her face and he instantly felt weak in the knees.
It was Minerva, of course. Who else could it be?
Let’s rearrange.
I wish you were a stranger I could disengage.
Just say that we agree and then never change,
Soften a bit until we all just get along.
“Why do you think you’re a fool, Professor?” Minerva asked tentatively.
“Typical Gryffindor,” he shook his head, half laughing. “I couldn’t possibly burden you with that, Minerva.”
“I don’t have much to worry about, Professor,” she smiled kindly. “I wouldn’t mind, if you need to talk.”
“That is very kind of you, Minerva, but Fawkes is confidante enough for me,” he smiled, but his voice was weak and she bit her lower lip, frowning with concern for him. She was terribly close. It would be so simple to reach out and take her face in his hands…
“I’m sure you have a better way to spend your afternoon, Miss McGonagall,” he said, rather cold. Minerva looked at the floor, he face pale. “Didn’t I assign your class an essay?”
“I’ve already finished it,” she said, her voice equally formal. She met his gaze almost defiantly, her eyes icy and her jaw set. “Good afternoon, Professor.” She spun around and sped away, her shoes clicking sharply on the marble.
But that’s disregard.
Find another friend and you discard
As you lose the argument in a cable car
Hanging above as the canyon comes between.
He had to be cold, he reasoned to himself as the echoes of her steps faded away. He had to push her away and distance himself from her or he would end up hurting them both.
Everyone knows I’m in
Over my head,
Over my head.
With eight seconds left in overtime,
She’s on your mind,
She’s on your mind.
The last three weeks of term dragged past, every moment around Minerva torturous. Despite his best efforts, Albus could not rid himself of his feelings for the girl.
Now she was graduating. Minerva would go off and lead a spectacular life, he thought, watching her from across the Great Hall. A spectacular life, he said again to himself, far away from him. Tonight, he knew, he could not be cold and distant, no matter how hard he tried.
And suddenly, I’m becoming a part of your past,
I’m becoming the part that don’t last.
I’m losing you and it’s effortless.
She was glowing. He found every excuse to talk to her, to soak up her radiance and commit her face to his memory. Suddenly, he realised what he was doing. He would never be able to forget his feelings for her if he behaved this way. He excused himself and fled to the edge of the gardens, getting as far away from everyone as possible.
He didn’t expect her to follow him.
“Do you have to walk so fast?” She was breathless and wisps of her hair were slipping out of her French twist. She smiled at him quizzically. “Are you all right?”
“It’s nothing you should care about, Miss McGonagall,” he said, wishing she would go, not trusting himself in this secluded, starlit garden.
“I can’t help it,” she said, stepping closer. “I do care.”
Albus couldn’t breathe, let alone reply. The next thing he knew, Minerva was pulling his face close and kissing him. And he was kissing her back.
Without a sound we lose sight of the ground
In the throw around
Never thought that you wanted to bring it down.
I won’t let it go down till we torch it ourselves.
He lost his head for a moment, unable to think properly due to the energy coursing through his body. Finally he realised what was happening and pushed her away.
“What are you doing?” he whispered angrily.
“Typical Gryffindor,” she gave him that nervous grin again. “I thought that since I’m no longer your student—”
“You are still a child!” he said hoarsely. Her face fell.
And everyone knows I’m in
Over my head,
Over my head.
With eight seconds left in overtime,
She’s on your mind,
She’s on your mind.
“It is completely inappropriate. We must not—”
“Feel this way?” she snapped, tears welling up in her eyes. She gave a short, desperate laugh and shook her head. “It’s not that simple,” she tried to glare at him, but her whole body was trembling.
“I’m sorry, Minerva, it’s impossible.”
“Goodbye, Professor,” she said as steadily as she could manage, turning away and disappearing around the corner.
Everyone knows
She’s on your mind.
Everyone knows I’m in over my head,
I’m in over my head,
I’m in over…
Fourteen years later, Albus showed his new Transfiguration professor to her rooms after her first day in the castle. She paused at the door, hesitating to speak. Finally, she drew in a deep breath and looked up at him nervously.
“Is it still impossible, Albus?”
He stared at her for a moment. She was no longer the bold seventeen-year-old girl who had kissed him, of whom people could accuse him of taking advantage. She was a grown woman, lovelier and more confident than ever. The colour was steadily rising in her face and she opened her mouth to apologise, but he cut her off.
“No, Minerva. It is not.”
Everyone knows I’m in
Over my head,
Over my head.
With eight seconds left in overtime,
She’s on your mind,
She’s on your mind.
A/N: I just have to ask, does the URL for the songfics board say "board=snogfic" on purpose? Either way, I like it...
