In Your Head

[Nerweniel]

In Your Head

Één

That particular morning, it took the young, black-haired witch with her intelligent, green eyes five minutes to realize that she had finished her toast and was nibbling on her fingers. It took her another minute to absent-mindedly remove the tip of her long braid form her cup of coffee- and yet less than another one to return to her intense reading and re-reading of the already slightly yellowish newspaper article lying in front of her.
She’d read the line atop of the page over and over again, not really believing it, but knowing that she had to. It couldn’t be a gossip- this was The Daily Prophet, and even though Minerva didn’t like all reporters of that particular newspaper too dearly, she had to admit that they would never lie about something like this. Along with that, of course, Minerva realized bitterly, it was also the perfect explanation for quite a few of her unanswered letters.
She didn’t have to raise her head and look up at the calendar on her wall to realize that it had been six years, six years to the spot, that she had first met him. Her Auror training had only been half completed by then, but an acute lack of trained forces along with her status as youngest Animagus of the century had incited Alastor Moody- Head Auror of the Ministry- to invite her to a meeting nonetheless.
She’d been very excited on that day- the fifteenth of October 1939, mere days after her nineteenth birthday- as she had, rather nervously, hat firmly planted atop of her black-haired head, ascended the stairs leading to the place she was heading to- one of the larger halls of the Ministry of Magic. He had come running down those same stairs- and only her quick, literally cat-like, reflexes had prevented the both of them from tumbling down. Her hat had fallen, though, and in a vain attempt to grab it, one velvet-clad knee had rather nastily hit one the marble stairs.
Tears had sprung into her eyes, but she had managed to keep them back. In fact, she’d just been about to throw a rather snappish reply into her “attacker’s” face, when a polite and rather concerned apology came, along with a helpful arm to help her to her feet again.
“Thank you, Sir, I will be able to stand on my own now.”
Polite apology or not, after all, the fact that her knee damn hurt would not become an excuse for weakness now. It wasn’t weakness which had brought Minerva McGonagall to where she was - and it would certainly not be weakness with which she would start this meeting, this meeting which could become so very important for the future she knew she had to build for herself.
An amused twinkle slipped into the man’s vivid, blue eyes, and for some reason Minerva found herself fighting the urge to smile.
“Are you sure, Miss McGonagall? I would not want to be the cause of the death of one of our most promising Aurors-in-Training.”
It was at that moment that Minerva realized that the man who’d accidentally almost pushed her off the chairs wasn’t just some kind of simply Ministry official. He knew her name- he even knew her position- and with a renewed examining look she looked up to his face. He was older than her by quite a few years, but he was no old man- and his long, auburn hair and beard were only very barely streaked with grey. There were a few wrinkles in his face, but those strangely clear blue eyes immediately dismissed every faint appearance of getting older, or even of middle age.
Minerva found herself smiling and not really knowing why as she, rather ashamed of her somewhat snappish remark of earlier, slightly lowered her head.
“You won’t be, Sir. I am perfectly alive. Thank you.” she added as, with a few steps and a quick gesture, he offered her her own, fallen, hat.
“And I am very glad you are. Now shall I accompany you to the meeting? I fear it’s about to start any minute, and I don’t think this is something either of us wants to be late for.”
His words had proved to be very true, Minerva bitterly remembered as she sat there at her breakfast table, six years later. It was on that day that the war against Grindelwald had become official- it was on that day that she had received the chance of her life- the chance to continue her Auror Training as a sort of apprenticeship. It would be dangerous, they had told her, but it would be worth it.
It had been worth it. Now, six year after date, she was a full blown Ministry Auror, celebrated and honoured after the war had ended- the war which Albus had won in the end. Albus.
She half-closed her eyes. It had been months since she’d last seen him, back in Germany. The morning of the last battle it had been, that he had last smiled at her, that she had last talked to him- that they had last shared-
What had happened the previous night had, perhaps, been a mistake of both of them- that Minerva did not know. But she, from her side, had been prepared to fight for it anyways- and then he had all of a sudden disappeared.
Only then, Minerva realized that she held the answer to all her questions of the previous months in her left hand.
“ALBUS DUMBLEDORE: WAR HERO GONE CRAZY?”

[KayleeTonksLupin]

OMG, must have more! This is intriguing...need more! Please!

Je t'aime,

Kaylee

[QuillofMinerva]

Wow! This rather intriguing and I need to know more lol so update soon lol ;D

Clayre xx

[griseldalafey]

I *love* it. What happenend to him?

*hopes this is the first time ever the Daily Prophet is wrong*

Griselda
~Eagerly awaiting the next chapter and now returning to MSN ;D ~

[angeldust]

ahhhh damn it!!!!!! Have just got half way through mine! looks like you beat me to it lol! but hey this looks like its going to be quite good am looking forward to reading more ;D

[Karmin]

Well you certainly have me eager to know more.

[Jaya]

more!!!

Please!

[tayryn]

oh man... please... you gotta update... now... please... more!!!

[Nerweniel]

Twee

“Albus Dumbledore? I’m sorry, Miss, but we have been asked to not give anyone admission to his rooms. We have had many problems with the press lately.”
Now Minerva had gotten her temper quite under control during the past few, disciplined, years- but the nothing less than arrogant expression on the plump Mediwitch’s face along with her own fears and worries were almost too much.
Almost- because right as the young, black-haired witch parted her lips in order to utter a rather snappish reply, a familiar, cool, soothing came to rest against her shoulder, and instinctively, Minerva closed her mouth.
“Annabel, it’s okay, I know her. She’s one of his best friends, a Ministry Auror too- Minerva McGonagall, surely you have heard the name? I will take her to him, I daresay that if anyone should gain entrance…”
Now Minerva usually wasn’t too fond of people having heard her name before or recognizing her- she’d always sought to avoid fame as much as possible- but for the first time in her life, the young Auror had to bow for its advantages. Even though the Mediwitch didn’t really seem to like this apparent “undermining of her authority”, she did step aside, and even gave Minerva something faintly resembling a polite nod as she passed, along with Poppy.
“You saved me there, Pops- thank you.”
“I daresay I rather saved Annabel than you, Min.”
Minerva couldn’t but smile at the teasing look in her friend’s light blue eyes- but then became serious again as Poppy came to rest a comforting hand against her shoulder.
“Poppy, is it true?”
Her friend’s heart-felt sigh more than confirmed the Daily Prophet’s news- and yet Minerva only fully believed it as she saw the twinkles in her usually so merry friend’s eyes disappear.
“I fear it is, Minerva. I’m sorry.”
The young Auror hardly stirred, though- and it was with a brisk nod and a nearly imperceptible quickening of her pace that Minerva continued her path.
On the inside, though, there was no peace. There wasn’t even a trace of the steady determination her outside appearance seemed to show- no calmness, no brisk nod which apparently always managed to make everything alright again.
Minerva had namely discovered something very peculiar years before- something, which she anxiously kept a secret- and it was, that that brisk nod didn’t help- not even in the least.
It was a mannerism, a habit of hers- but then again only just that. It didn’t help her, except in that way that it highly effectively hid her feelings for the rest of the world, something Minerva had somehow always valued quite a lot. But that was all.
It didn’t keep her from wondering, it didn’t keep her from fearing, and it certainly did not keep her from crying- with that great and crucial difference, that Minerva’s tears were inner tears, buried and hidden for the eyes of the world- but not less hurt, not less painful, and certainly not less present.
Often people made the mistake of overlooking those concealed tears of Minerva- but she did not complain, because that was the mistake she wanted them to make. Her inability to show any weakness was natural- unhealthy, perhaps, but natural- and she could not fight it- or not yet.
Only once before had she let that carefully built up mask of hers down- only once, and that day- night- had only occurred mere months before. Minerva bit her lips in a vain attempt not to feel the pain at the happy memory of that night- of its miracles- of its promises, but found herself failing horribly.
She had truly believed in a future for her- for them- on that night- in fact she had, for the first time ever, that something like a future, a happy one, could ever exist for her.
An orphan before her sixth birthday, brought up in an orphanage which could provide for everything except love, Minerva had always had a somewhat fatalistic view on the years to come. Part of that was the reason why she had decided to start Auror training as well, of course, for though brave and very intelligent, Minerva had never been the one for caution and peace.
She had only realized the reason behind that apparent indifference towards caution as it had been too late already. She had never had someone to care about or to worry about- until he had come. And he had come, ever-present and confusing, yet kind and with that twinkling wink always near-present in those wondrous eyes of his- both eager and capable to make her smile.
She had learnt to feel caution because of his presence in her life, on that very night- on the night of the day that he had left again.
And here she stood, months later, worried and uncertain of herself- and hating it to the point where she didn’t know whether it had all been a dream or not, simply because that she wanted to believe.
Minerva released a breath she didn’t know she was holding as she leant a hand against the white, disgustingly- sterile- door which would bring her to him.
After a short knock, she entered- and she knew Poppy had been right.

[KayleeTonksLupin]

Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh nooooooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Oh, please, Lies, make everything all right again!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

*sobbing*

Kaylee

[griseldalafey]

Why do people insist on using evil cliffhangers

Poor Minerva... I hope she'll managed to get through to Albus. *puts Cranberries cd in cd-player* I really like this story!

[QuillofMinerva]

OHHHHHHH NOOOOOOO evil cliff hanger there Lies

update soon please, pretty please with cherries on

Clayre xx

[Lady Lavendar]

Why do people always seem to use cliffhangers? There so evil! And the plot thickins! Great job!!!

LL ;D

[Karlynne]

There are easier ways of torturing your readers than to leave us hanging and unable to bear the wait for another update. I beg for mercy and plead for a quick update. Karlie

[angeldust]

that was a pure evil place to leave it!! UPDATE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[Sensiblyquirky]

oh you are evil, and i think you enjoy it way too much. I'm waiting for the update that I know will come soon...

Christy

[Nerweniel]

Drie

The room was painted white, just like its door had been. Minerva was nearly blinded by the heavy reflection of the early afternoon sunlight against the walls- and for some reason this typical, yet so cold colouring nearly scared her more than the prospect of seeing the man in the obviously occupied bed in the corner of the room. It was thus with a determined step, not in the least tentative or hesitant, that she stepped forwards mere seconds later- only to look down on him and watch- only to watch.
The mere situation of being speechless had not often before occurred to the calm, pulled-together Miss Minerva McGonagall- nor had the concept “being unable to move” ever had any meaning for her- and yet now, all of a sudden, it had.
It was, she decided, not so much the idea of seeing Albus lying, weak and wounded, in a hospital bed. She’d had time enough to get used to that one, after all, and after having expected him to be dead, it had been a relief at that. Even now Minerva, as inexperienced in Healing Magic as she most certainly was, knew by one single look at the man in the bed that- physically- he would once be entirely alright again.
What frightened her, though- what rendered her speechless and dumbfounded, was the look in his eyes.
Minerva had seen many, many emotions mirrored in those eyes of his- those bizarre, yet warm, pools of an unknown blue liquid. She’d seen them stir for joy- she had witnessed them cry for sadness… she had allowed her own, green eyes to lock with them as they swirled with anger- but never, never before had she witness emptiness in them.
Never. She’d never imagined emptiness to be possible in those eyes, too, because even though some sides of Albus would always remain a mystery to her, one fact about him had she realized very soon in their friendship. And that was, that Albus’s life lay not in his gestures, in his words or in his heart- it lay in his eyes. Those same eyes which were so very empty now.
But he was not dead, and that she realized, too, for his chest rose with every breath he took, and air escaped his slightly parted lips as Minerva gently took a place on a chair next to his bed. He seemed to sleep and perhaps in a way he did- and yet there were those eyes, opened and empty, staring at the ceiling, at the wall, at everything but her- and Minerva couldn’t but remember another time.
When he had looked at her with exactly those beautiful, blue eyes of his- when they had shone with kindness, with- did she dare to say it?- love for her, and for her alone- when they had, without speaking one word, gently caressed her and asked her for permission and when they had gained that permission, too.
“We found him like this, Minerva. He was transported here right away, seems to be asleep right now, but we have noticed he never closes his eyes. Sometimes he speaks- and we fear the hexes of the fight have caused permanent brain damage.”
Poppy’s voice sounded almost automatic as she repeated the medical details of her patient for about the hundredth time- yet she, unlike most people, knew Minerva McGonagall well enough to read the hurt she did not show, and gently rested a hand on her friend’s shoulder.
“I am so sorry, Min. I know you- cared about him.”
Her last words were deliberately diligently chosen, as she know her friend did not like to have her emotions displayed too openly- but Minerva was way too far gone to even notice.
“It’s okay, Poppy. Can I- talk to him for a while? Stay with him for a bit?”
“Of course.”
As soon as her friend had closed the door of the hospital room behind her back, Minerva finally, finally allowed her pent up emotions to find some sort of outlet- but not through tears. All the young Auror permitted herself was a very deep, frustrated sigh- and even that was a lot already.
Covering his left hand, resting atop of the sheets, with her own right one, Minerva looked down on the man she had loved in secret for almost six years, only to see his body, and not the soul she had so desperately been in love with. As suddenly, it stirred, she nearly retreated her hand- yet then found back her so well-known Gryffindor courage and simply stroked his hand as, apparently, he woke up.
“What are you doing here?”
It was a pretty logical question in the given circumstances, of course, but still it somehow disturbed Minerva. Even though the question wasn’t asked in a rude manner- more as if he was somehow… worried- it was still a very direct one, and Minerva did think Albus loved her better than this.
“I- I’m visiting you, Albus. You were wounded during your fight against Grindelwald, remember?”
His frown seemed so sincere- so Albus, so true- and for a short moment, Minerva really thought it was all going to be alright. And yet then he spoke up- and every word cut straight through her heart.
“Don’t be so silly, Miss. You’d better leave this place, by the way, it is not safe here. The Auror camp is right behind that bush, and the Lord Grindelwald’s troops can’t be too far away from here either.”
Still he seemed sincere, honest, and truthfully worried about her welfare- and yet Minerva couldn’t keep one, angry tear from rolling down her cheek as she shook her head in frustration.
“No, Albus, he is dead! You defeated him, don’t you remember?”
At these words of hers, a change came over the man’s features- and for a moment, Minerva felt hope again but then, as he spoke up again, she found herself being broken all over again.
“No, Mother, I swear I did not “defeat” Aberforth. I daresay he is just in his room, playing with that goat of his.”
“Albus, I am not your mother, I am Minerva!”
Her pleas went unheard, though- for the babbling went on, and on, and on- and even though she was sure it was undoubtedly Albus speaking, she knew he was definitely confused. Times, places, persons, facts- everything seemed so complicated to him, and yet so damned clear at the same time.
It broke her heart to see him this way- and yet she vowed to return. For one thing was clearer than ever to her now- and that was, that she loved him. That she had fallen in love with that wonderful man she had known for such a long time, and that she would do everything to retrieve that man. No matter what.
And if he were never to- but no, she must not think like that.
That night, Minerva McGonagall cried herself to sleep for the first time in a very long time.
And dreamt, too…

[KayleeTonksLupin]

Dreamt of WHAT? WHAT!? Oh, you are SO evil, Grand-mere! I MUST KNOW!!!

A very worried

Kaylee

[delenndumbledore]

Oh Nerweniel...it's really dramatic...but nevertheless I like your story very much. I love your description of the strong feelings Minerva has for Albus....and all she sees in his beautiful eyes.

Very sentimental *sigh*!!!

Delenn Dumbledore

[griseldalafey]

*wrings hands* Everything will be all right... they have to be all right... If Minerva can't get through to him, no one can.

Wonderful update, I'm eagerly awaiting the next part.

[angeldust]

woo! once again a evil ending and got to say i love how you are portraying albus! but update soon the suspence is kiling

[Nerweniel]

Vier

A/N: Lemonish stuff here- simply because big sis #1 was overly corrupting .

Minerva smiled as she moved her tower over the chess board, quick brain as usual anticipating his next move- and she knew she’d won as, indeed, he moved his queen two squares to the left.
“Checkmate, Albus.”
She couldn’t keep the tiniest hint of triumph out of her voice as, with a grin, the auburn-haired man sitting opposite her bowed his head and spread his arms in defeat.
“Alas, my dear, once more you have outwitted this poor old man.”
A rather unladylike snort was the only answer to his mocking assumption, and with a smile and a swish of her wand, Minerva moved the chess board back to the shelf where it belonged. Leaning back into her chair, the young woman shook her head, a faint, amused smile on her lips.
“A poor old man without any grey hairs who turns out to be the most powerful wizard of this time? I’m sure.”
His smile was a true one- yet there was something of an absent expression in his blue eyes, and Minerva found herself slightly leaning forward as an uncharacteristic sigh left the wizard’s lips.
“And yet, Minerva, sometimes I do feel old. I am eighty years your senior, my dear.”
“And yet, Albus, I have never considered you as a man who could technically be my father or grandfather. You are not a very innocent-grandfatherly type, I fear.”
Their noses were nearly touching as an uncharacteristically playful grin came over her lips. In his eyes, there was only surprise, though- and question, too, floating somewhere under the surface, in silence.
“Minerva-“
“Albus.”
Every trace of teasing, of the light atmosphere of an instant earlier, was easily chased away by this one word- by this one word, pronounced softly, like a baby bird flying for the very first time, urged out of the nest by its mother and her natural instinct of necessity. A taste of freedom- a taste of life, and it was exactly that which Albus craved as slowly, gently, he rested a tentative hand against the pale, soft cheek of the young witch who had come to mean so very much to him.
“Minerva.”
He called out her name as if asking for an answer to all questions asked, being asked or about to be asked- and knew he’d got his answer as tenderly, her lips came to cover his in an embrace of sweet melancholy and adoration.
Their kiss was one of fever, of ardour- and not the one to be stopped, for both of them knew that, unlike millions of other couples during the thousands of years before, it was possible that they did not “have the time”. That they would not have the chance to grow old together- that for them, it was very likely that there would not be a quiet and peaceful tomorrow to think things over properly.
All they had, and all they were and could be sure of, was their love, and when Albus, moments later, picked the young woman up in his arms, a question for permission obvious in his now endlessly tender blue eyes, Minerva did not have to think. She simply nodded.
His lips crushing down on hers was all reassurance she needed as gently, she was laid down on his bed, closing her eyes in the process. The tremble of his fingers as they, slowly, almost timidly, started opening the top buttons of the practical, green robe she wore held every single bit of the expectation of one opening the door to the most wondrous and precious gift he had ever craved- and yet all that was totally lost in the sensation of finally- finally- having their lips meeting in the embrace they had both longed for so very badly.
Every single inch of newly exposed skin was treasured- honoured- worshipped by his lips, and when her robe lay carelessly thrown on the floor in a corner of the room, Minerva was panting lightly, pushing his robes off his shoulders, hands guided by an emotion she had never even thought she would be capable of feeling.
As- finally- all thoughts of clothes belonged to a faraway and long forgotten past, Albus found himself staring down at the young woman in his bed in wonder and delight- and only one word found its way to his lips in the end.
“Perfect...”
And that, indeed, she was. Albus released a breath he didn’t know he was holding as he took in the sight of the young, Scottish woman- skin pale and glimmering, almost translucent in the moonlight, long, black hair spread out under her head, eyes closed in something very close to a delirious anticipation- breath quickening considerably as Albus tenderly allowed his hand to touch the top of her left breast.
As his mouth covered hers again, he could feel her smile against his lips and her hands drew circles on his bare back, sensuously and gently, and it was with a voice more hoarse than usual that he spoke up again, forehead leaning against hers in the darkness of the room.
“Minerva, are you sure of this? We can- we can always-“
Her teasing smile along with the drops of sweat on her forehead convinced him just as much as her words as slowly, she shook her head.
“I don’t think we can, Albus.”
As he realized she was referring to the none too subtle pressure against her left thigh, the most powerful wizard of his age coloured crimson as if he were a girl of four.
“Minerva…”
“Yes, Albus. My answer is yes.”
They were finally, finally united sheer moments later, and as Albus looked into Minerva’s eyes, finding there only longing and adoration, he knew he had made the right decision- he knew they had both made the right decision.
As they quickened their pace, proving their obvious mutual love once more and once more on the stairway to heaven, there was no war anymore, no pain, no danger- only love, and to that love they were paying tribute.
The pent up expectation inside of both of them exploded mere seconds later, and they were still muttering the other’s name as, finally, they cuddled up to each other beneath the light, summer sheets of the bed.
A memorable night indeed…
And yet it was with tears in her eyes that Minerva woke up.

[angeldust]

ALL HAIL THE LEMON DEMON!!!!!!!!! ;D This was a fabby lemon and a brilliantly happy memory but that last bit was so sad and to tell the truth i am pitying Minerva alot more then ever before! But i'm, really enjoying this fic please update soon

[Kandice]

I thought I smelled something citrus like in the air. The story makes me extremely sad but the memory did pick up my mood. Very powerful. Kandie

[Hogwarts Duo]

I have to agree with angeldust...*bows down to the LEMON DEMON*! That was bloody fantastic and it has no doubt left a huge smile on my face for the rest of the day. ^_^

[griseldalafey]

This certainly was a little up frog (It's fun to translate expressions literally)

But the last line was so sad, poor, poor Minerva, I really hope she can get through to him.

[Sensiblyquirky]

yay for big sisters that corrupt, but remember I'm the innocent one who will guide you toward the white light...but deviations are great fun!

I feel so sorry for Minerva, and for Albus. I really want to see how you get him out of this fix...

Christy

[Sola]

say YAY to lemon!
...poor min throu...and poor albus...arg...your endings are REALY mean...no...they are scornful evil...SO...I love it ;D

Anyway...Hope ya go on SOON...

Sola

[Nerweniel]

Vijf

“I love you, I love you!”
The black-haired witch bitterly cried as the only reply to her desperately yelled words came, though, in the form of an ear-deafening silence echoing and echoing through the cold, dark rooms of her flat.
‘I love you! I goddamn love you, Albus! Hear me, then- hear me!”
Her fists dug deep into the soft material of her pillow as her voice grew hoarse with ire and despair, only fading into nothing again to make place for her sobs, too intense to be heard, too passionate to have a sound.
As she curled up into a tight, silent ball of madness, chin resting atop of her knees, eyes closed as if to keep her tears from staining the bedclothes even more, Minerva McGonagall heard her own whisper pierce through the pitch black night.
“I’m in love with a madman.”
It was the truth, she knew- the utter and undiluted truth and yet she could repeat it over and over again to herself- it did not change anything. It did not change her feelings, nor their intensity, their truth- it did not change her despair.
It only cut deeper, burnt harder- it only wounded her more.
Sleep did not come easy that night.
And yet at some point it did- for at eight o’clock the next morning, Minerva found herself, sleepy yet at the same time horribly awake, entering that sterile, terribly white room- only to find the man she loved way too much staring at her with eyes so empty it was nearly unbearable.
“Good morning, Albus.”
Her soft, alto voice lacked every trace of the forced cheerfulness she refused to use, and yet it was not sad either. It reflected the state of her mind more perfectly than even she herself realized- for there was no sadness anymore. She had cried and cried that night, she had yelled and fought herself.
She had lost in the end- and no sadness, no anger was left- just that deep despair which was hard to explain and which came in the darkness, unexpected- quick to surprise and slow to be surprised.
As she crouched down next to his bed, she allowed one finger to softly trace the lines on the inside of Albus’s hand. How she remembered those hands- when they had held her, when they had- when they have loved her.
But that was the past, she had to remember- and with a gentle squeeze, she released his hand again, tenderly laying it down atop of the white, thin sheets.
“Albus, I miss you.”
He smiled, and for a moment she had the feeling her heartbeat stopped. A slight fluttering inside of her stomach pierced straight through her heart as his blue eyes- just for a moment- twinkled as they had always done- and yet when he spoke up, it was over.
“Grandmother, I know you didn’t want me to leave for Hogwarts, but Aber is still here, isn’t he? He’ll visit you, often, I promise!”
Minerva very nearly started crying as sincere worry shone from his eyes- sincere worry, though, which she knew was not aimed at her. She knew it was the worry of a young grandson for his aging grandmother- and part of her wanted to yell, to rage- to curse, but at the same time she knew she was not being fair.
“I’m not your grandmother, Albus.”
But her whisper was too silent, her words too softly spoken to pierce through the thick fogs now occupying her once lover’s mind. The babbling went on and on, and Minerva found herself listening to it, tears in eyes yet knowing that listening was the only thing she could do for him at the moment- and after all, she would still do everything for him.
The soft pressure of her hand on his was the only tenderness she could provide him with now- and even as she said goodbye again, she contented herself with a mere, soft kiss pressed against his cheek.
“I know you don’t know me, Albus. I know you perhaps never will- but that doesn’t mean that I will not love you anymore.”

[angeldust]

oh poor minerva.... this is awful yet its so well written that i must read on! Update soon!