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Post by palanfanaiel on Feb 14, 2006 19:01:34 GMT -5
Title: A Wistful Leaving. Rating: 13+ Spoiler: Set somewhere after Ootp, and could be throughout HBP. BUt you migt need a magnifying glass to even find the slightest spoiler for HBP Summary: Dumbledore was gone a lot during HBP, went on various trips that had something to do with war, and Voldemort. Just a little scene with him telling his deputy. My first fic after the release of HBP. Now, I did this, very sleep deprived, in the middle of the night... It's not that brilliant written ____________________________________________ ”Lumos,” the whispered incarnation brought a flame of light to life. Darkness flounced away with a mighty alacrity, gone to hide in corners as threatening shadows. With a small pause he let his gaze sweep over the room, noticing the dulling embers glowing in the fireplace. Maybe she was still awake? That was a pleasant thought to him. The last months had been hectic, and this was certainly not the first time he came to her chambers in the early mornings or late evenings. The very idea of not having to wake her up from a deep nurturing sleep was elating. A few quick steps brought him to her bedroom door, and with anticipation he turned down the doorknob, and flinched inevitable at the hinges loud squeaking. A look at the bed and his hopes were dashed – lying peacefully under a thin cover of sheet on her stomach was a woman, indeed sleeping soundly. Light as a feather he went over and sat down at the edge of the bed, enjoying a few minutes silence. She was hugging her pillow, not tightly, merely holding it loosely. As much as he hated doing this, to her, he knew that in doing nothing but stretching time, he would get nowhere. It was unavoidable. “Minerva,” he gently spoke as he prodded her bare arm trying to awaken her. He sighed as he got nothing from her that reminded of a reaction. He tried again and this time he was fortunate. The response however was minimal. The woman, Minerva, mumbled an incoherent word, and rolled over on her side, her back facing him. Trice is the lucky number he thought as he shrugged and let his hand softly shake her. “Go away!”“Minerva, dear, I’ve got to talk to you,” he told her, glad she was showing symptoms of being awake. The words had barely left his lips and she rolled over on her back, eyelids fluttering tiredly. “Mmhm,” she slurred, but nonetheless turned away from him again to go back to sleep. This time the glass on her nightstand filled with water to the brim got a wistful look. No, he dared not! “If I remember correctly, cats do terribly despise water, right?”Minerva spun around and was sitting up, alert with dishevelled hair. She awkwardly tried to pull her sheet closer around her, but her feet were all tangled up in it. “Why do you insist on awakening me with such a crude tactic?”“I figured it would be a success,” he told her with a smile. “I’m so sorry to wake you, dear, again. But as previous this is important. I’ll be gone for a couple of days.” Instantly her eyes went from dull green to a fierce emerald, her lips thinned, and her whole being radiated stubbornness. Yet again, he thought to himself with a groan. Forgetting her condition she stopped fidgeting with the sheet and instead focussed on attempting to glare holes in his robes. “Minerva-” he was violently interrupted as she jumped up from her bed, standing profusely above him frowning down at him. She didn’t let him speak. “Are you planning on telling me the reason behind your little trip this time? I don’t know why you even bother using your time to come here and wake me when you won’t even tell me where you going? And why? Merlin, you won’t tell me anything,” she paused with a heave for air, and was about to go on but apparently decided against it. Letting out a sigh she sagged against her bed on the floor. He had listened to her with a heavy heart, feeling the burden of guilt and sorrow perched on his shoulders. Yet he knew he would not tell her. Not where he was going or why. There were too many complications. If he told her he was going on a little adventure to gather memoirs on Voldemort, and other useful information, she would insist on going with him. Or by chance endanger herself, even more than she already was in. He couldn’t allow that. Then he would rather have the pleasure of enduring her wrath. Trying to ease the atmosphere between them he lightly put a hand on her shoulder, wanting to sooth her. He couldn’t say he was remotely surprised when she brushed his hand away. After a while however she whispered in a small voice, “I know, I know. The less who knows, the less will be in danger. It’s nothing big, just a bit of Order business. I know.”
“Minerva-”“Don’t say anything, Albus,” she interrupted him again as she heaved herself up from the floor to sit right next to him on the bed, her bare thigh lightly touching his three coloured pants. Taking hold of her hand he gave it a gently squeeze, and stood up preparing to leave. “Take care Minerva; I’ll be here again before you can say ‘Sherbet Lemon’,” he let go of hand, sadly seeing she was still eyeing her curtains. He bent down and softly kissed the top of her head, inhaled her scent for a second. And then left – heavy heart, heavy mind – closing her bedroom door behind him with a low thud. Albus Dumbledore was out of Hogwarts grounds when Minerva answered him with a miserable voice: “Take care.” With a moan wrenched from her lungs she lay down on her bed, wondering how long it would be until he was back. And how long it was going to be until she could sleep again. Those two questions were one she realised. She would sleep when Albus came home. ____________________________________________ Pal
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Post by tanja on Feb 15, 2006 10:01:40 GMT -5
that´s sad...and very good. I liked it a lot.
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Post by zoeteproet on Feb 15, 2006 12:22:59 GMT -5
I've read this on ff.net and posted a review, but wanted to post my review here to because the one on ff.net is way to short! It's really wonderful your story. You describe them both so wonderful, I feel sorry for both of them. Minerva can't help him because he doesn't explain things to her (which can be very frustrating), and Albus doesn't want her help because he's afraid she'll be in danger. Typical Albus! I hope Min understands him. Thanks for the story, I enjoyed it! Love, Sarah xx
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Post by angeldust on Feb 15, 2006 14:11:28 GMT -5
This was brilliant, I love how you depicted Albus and Min a wonderful story that's left me quite speechless and chocked up.
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Post by Alesia on Feb 16, 2006 20:33:04 GMT -5
I liked it.
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Post by palanfanaiel on Feb 25, 2006 13:05:43 GMT -5
A/N: Had an idea for a part 2, even though I thought it was going to be a stand alone fic this one.. Hope you like =) Part 2 Half a cry, half a quenched sob escaped the woman as she barely made it around a corner of a corridor. She was not walking; she was not running, but something in between. Clutching a shaking hand to her stomach she made herself slow down to a more steady and calm pace. With a resolute strength she stopped dead before a big wooden door, and stood gasping for air. Again it was sheer strength that quietly brushed away her panting and all together shook off any thoughts she might have had of breaking down. With a composed expression and stable feet she went in the door, chin held high. Despite being prepared for the worst, and having taken the time to consume her own fear, the sight that met her eyes captured words from beyond her mind and permission. “Albus,” the name was spoken with a little voice though on the brink of becoming high-pitched. The hospital wing should have been dark and empty, but several lights were on and on the nearest bed - with Poppy Pomfrey half in her nightgown rushing in and out of her office and two pale persons standing on either side of the bed – was the object of her confusion and apprehension. She wasn’t the slightest interested in Poppy or the others, the only concern she had was the man sitting on the bed, pale and trembling. “I told you to not to wake her,” even his voice was tired and shrill, but the commanding undertone stopped her in her tracks, and she glimpsed Poppy smiling nervously. “I-”“You’re obviously not well Headmaster, or you would have agreed fetching the deputy headmistress was abrilliant idea,” the unruffled voice of Severus Snape interrupted her. Severus gave her a tight uplift of the corner of his mouth as he moved away from the bedside to let her take over. As she passed him with a troubled mind he leaned in and whispered; “I’ve fixed him the best I could. At this moment it’s all I can do.”His words were like ice, drenching her in cold, heartless fear. Images ran like wildfire, as they had done when Poppy had woken her up, telling her the Headmaster was in the hospital wing. Her stomach turned knots on itself as she neared the bed to finally rest her eyes on him. And what a shape! Blank blue eyes behind half-moon spectacles rolled up to met her gaze, his mouth could barely conceal his pain behind a forced semi smile. For awhile she let her eyes roam his body, his face but she couldn’t find anything fatal, not even a single wound or gash. She watched a bead of sweat roll down from his eyebrow. Why was he shaking? “I-”
“Professor, I am fine now. Poppy and Severus have done amazing! They’ve practically cured me. I’m fine,” he gave her a half-hearted smile to prove his words while he sat back against a couple of pillows, distancing himself from her further than even his professional title could. Just then a fateful reaching to grasp his outer robe revealed his injury. She saw it. “Your hand!”For a brief second she berated her intelligence; her friend was injured his hand blackened with decay, looking ready to crumble at the smallest puff of air and all she could utter was a stupid childish remark. “I-”“He’s fine! Snape saved the rest of his arm, but couldn’t repair the damage already done to his hand,” For a moment she was surprised to see Alastor Moody standing opposite her wearing his usual attire and appearing relatively serene. Moody gave her a curtly nod when she looked at him and continued to talk, “Too bad it wasn’t your other hand, Albus, I would be able to win at Fowls & Snails then.”Albus gave a short chuckle, but stopped midway when he winced in pain. Was she in the wrong century? Did she even know these people? What was wrong with them? Joking! Ignoring her! Pretending nothing had happened! “How did this happen?” Her tone sounded so cold, but on the inside she was burning with rage, yearning to yell and scream. In stead she pressed her lips together and hoped she would be able to appear collected. “I’m sorry, that’s a long and tiring story for later,” Albus replied, not even having the decency to look her in the eye. “The way you keep building up stories and important information for later, I’ll assume I’ll be six feet under when you finally decide it’s time to tell me!”Never before had she so badly wanted to hit something, or better yet, him! Did he even care how much she had dreaded seeing him the whole way up here, how she feared something like this would happen? Did he know what he had put her through? Most likely not. Too often she wondered whether he was not to oblivious to the world when it was not about war, or greater happenings. Was he even aware of the little things? Letting out a breath she allowed herself to fall down onto a chair and truly calm down. Seemingly he did not respond to her outburst, but he must have done something for both Severus and Poppy quickly went away, Alastor Moody not late to follow. “Minerva, I’m truly sorry. If I was up to it, I would be telling you now. Sadly I find I’m too troubled by my situation,” he turned his head trying to make eye contact. “It’s back to Minerva, huh,” she spit angrily; half afraid she might say something she would regret if she already hadn’t. Bewildered she looked at him when he chuckled for the second time. “My dear, you’re always Minerva to me. I am just an old man enjoying seeing you tick when I refer to you by title,” this time there was without doubt no mistaking his laughter, or even the slight tones of mirth coming from her own mouth. She opened her mouth to apologise but he interfered by taking hold of her hand, letting his index finger and tomb gently run over her knuckles. “I am the one to apologise, not you, dear,” he whispered, and she nodded. The hospital wing was quiet, the Headmaster and his deputy silently watched dawn breaking with rain, holding hands, tightly. [glow=red,2,300]Pal[/glow] Let me know if there should be a part 3 I think I have an Idea, but it may take some time. I have just been ill, and am behind on the school front
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Post by Alesia on Feb 25, 2006 15:44:54 GMT -5
Pal,
I know I didn't comment much on the first part but I do like this story. There is so much that happened in that 2 weeks we don't know anything about. I really like chapter 2. I can imagine Minerva would be furious with him once he is hurt, especially since he won't tell her what is going on. Yes, I would love to see a part 3.
a
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Post by palanfanaiel on Mar 6, 2006 11:46:12 GMT -5
Title: A Wistful Leaving.
Part 3-------------------------------------------------------- With her high heels clicking prickly on the floor in a rhythmic pulse, arms loaded with various degrees, paperwork and formal papers that needed signing Minerva was set on the course to the Headmasters office. Time had passed quickly, three weeks since the hospital and yet she felt the whole ordeal had happened yesterday, or was happening again. She feared it wasn’t over, and in her mind she knew it wasn’t. That’s the trouble with war, she told herself over and over, trying to sooth her feelings but they kept nagging her in the cruellest of ways. Not even a glorious day with a clear blue sky, ever lush nature and a comfortable atmosphere could change that. To her eyes the sky was grey, the trees had claws and the students’ laughter and happy faces became twisted. No one noticed the change in her and fortunately, in her opinion, she kept it to herself, locked up tight. She kept up her façade and no one would be any wiser. It was for the best anyway. What wouldn’t become of everyone if they saw those supposed to be strong collapse? The students expected their teacher to be a forever strong force on which they could rely and look up to in hard times. She didn’t see the need to break more spirits; their world needed encouragement and sturdy hearts at the moment. Again her thoughts turned to Albus. Despite of his injury he insisted he was in brilliant health, and maybe he was, but in those three weeks she had seen him perhaps maximum five times and that included two swift glimpses of something white and blue streaking past her with a distant “ Professor”. Of those five times only one had been a conversation that had lasted over 30 seconds and had consisted of more than one syllables thrown absently her way over a plate of breakfast. The whole situation was sickening her, and to top it all she felt nothing short of lost. Why was she so incompetent? What had happened to the stubborn woman who would let nothing get in her way, never wavered and most definitely never felt lost? Lost in gloomy thoughts she was surprised to stagger into the door to his office, she had not realised where she had been, all caught up in emotions. “Lost and blind, what a bliss,” she spat quietly while knocking harshly on the door. With a sigh she opened the door when no one answered and went in. His office was utterly deserted; not even a painting had an occupant. “Albus?” His name echoed around the room, past bookshelves and foreign magical instruments, cabinets full of mysterious vials and other weird gadgets. After a quick search into his private chambers – she even dared sticking her head in the bathroom – and calling out rather loudly for him a flutter of wings caught her attention. It came from the office, so as she skidded across the floor in Albus Dumbledore’s bedroom chamber she wondered whether she should start by boxing his ears or wait with that for later! With a small wistful smile she pondered why he was the only one able to make her happy and sad at the same time; all it took was a glint or none in his eyes. Fawkes sat perched on Albus’s chair behind his desk and gave her a happy chirp when she entered the office once again. Albus on the other hand was no where to see. “I guess he won’t be long, huh,” she asked Fawkes, who tilted his head and gave a little thrill. “ Ahh, you’re just as hopeless as your friend,” she exclaimed as she opened a drawer and threw a bag full of sweets on the desk. Fawkes gave another thrilling note while he poked his feet trying to unwrap the candy. After helping the bird wrapping the candy out, she sagged against a nice comfortable chair opposite Fawkes, the one she usually would sit in when Albus and she talked school business. “It shouldn’t be long till he comes, right,” she told the room and the bird merrily chewing on a toffee. With a yawn she leaned her head back and drowsily started counting cracks in the ceiling. ---------------------------------------------------------------- A yawn scarcely concealed by his tired hand paused him as he was about to throw the green powder in his hand. Another yawn stretched his mouth as he stood hunched in a fireplace, walls filled with black soot, some of it falling onto his cloak. “Albus Dumbledore’s Office,” he said as he threw the powder and was engulfed in green flames, tangling him in livid fire. He smiled despite his tiredness. It was always rather amusing he had to say his own name to get home. After several seconds he stepped out of his own fireplace, brushing off ash. It wasn’t a success so he threw his cloak on the floor and was halfway to his bedroom when he changed his mind and went back to his cloak. He bent down and picked it up – better put it nicely away. If Minerva knew he was deposing of his clothes like that she would without doubt give a little lecture. With half a grin spread across a drawn face he threw the soiled cloak over the arm of a puffy sofa and with a flick of his wand the cloak laid folded and clean. “There you go, ready for use,” he was about to enter his bedroom when a noise from his office stopped him in his journey to sleep. He spun around; wanting to ensure nothing was amiss. It’s probably Fawkes snoring in his sleep again; he thought with a shrug and ventured into to his office. No curtains were drawn across the high ceiled windows, small rays of moonlight crept through the vast darkness coming from the night, softly illuminating the interior of his office and bringing out long twisted shadows as well. His eyes landed on Fawkes sitting perched on the arm of his chair, head under a wing of bright orange feathers. Albus held his breath for a moment listening for the usual snoring coming from the bird. Not a sound could be heard, it was all still, with the occasionally creak from the castle. Must have been my imagination then, Albus thought, that or I really should get that appointment for a check up on my hearing! About to turn around and go back to bed something caught his eye, lying with feet tucked up under her, arms slung over the arm of a chair and sound asleep. The light from the moon lay like a soft blanket over face, which were for once free of worry lines. He moved to the chair, shook his head as he bent his knees, resting on the balls of his feet and leaned down to move a strand of hair covering her face. Gently he let a finger run along her jawline, tracing the moonlight. He argued back and forth whether he should wake her, or let her sleep. She looked so peaceful, so beautiful. He allowed himself to study her face for while, enjoying being able to truly look at her unguarded. He kissed his fingertips and slowly touched them to the tip of her pointy nose; she stirred but did not wake. And with a determined mind he tenderly put an arm under her knees and back and lifted her out off the chair without awakening her and made a slow progress to his bedroom praying she would stay asleep. After having tucked his deputy he went back to the sofa and tucked himself in with his cloak as a blanket. Soon he was likewise his friend sound asleep in the world of dreaming. -------------------------------------------------------------- A/N: I just wanna thank all of your lovely beings who reviewed, thank you.. It made my day Thank you, angeldust, tanja, zoeteproet and alesia. I hope you enjoyed part 3;) Part 4 willbe up and going as soon aspossible Pal
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Post by Trulyamused on Mar 6, 2006 20:19:09 GMT -5
Tucking her into his bed.<grin>
Great stuff
Truly
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Post by Alesia on Mar 7, 2006 21:27:17 GMT -5
Hey Pal!
I really liked the third installment. It was really touching. The only way it could have been better is if he held her while she slept. <sigh>
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Post by blackstar on Mar 9, 2006 16:14:24 GMT -5
Love it. Wonderfull. I hope you write more. Very well done.
And he get her into his bed? *gg*
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Post by Jessabelle on Mar 14, 2006 13:12:40 GMT -5
Wonderful! I can't wait for Part 4! - Jess
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Post by palanfanaiel on Apr 2, 2006 9:18:04 GMT -5
Part 4 She was awake a few times before she was really fully awake. She felt her eyes flutter, but every time the warmth from her blanket would lull her body slowly to sleep again, eyes closing peacefully, a tired yawn stretching before she let a likewise pleasant blanket cover her mind as well. But the fourth time it happened, Minerva being more alert than the previous times, noticed something peculiar. She was fully dressed underneath the blanket, her black rope flattened andwrinkled by sleep. Another yawn crept along her mouth and she agreed with her mind; shehad been a wreck the day before. It was rare she was too exhausted to change her clothes before going to sleep, but that must have been the case yesterday.Ah, there was a once for everything. She enjoyed a few more peaceful moments before something slipped under the thick fog occupying her mind; since when was her bed twice the normal size? And it was at that moment, a long time after waking, she became aware of her surroundings. Sitting up with jolt, she gaped at the room. It was without a doubt not hers; unless she mistakenly had transfigured her room in her sleep. No, that could not be, she had a ward against wandless magic, in case of scenario such as this. Slipping of the bed, she looked around trying to take it all in, but everything was in a haze. Glasses! Where were her glasses? Fumbling back to the bed, she found them on a nightstand next to double-sized bed, on the right side. Sliding them onto her nose, she squinted her eyelids for a moment and inhaled before she opened them again. And for the first time since her awakening, she knew where she was, not that it made the situation any better. Sagging down onto the floor, her back against the bedpost, she wondered what she was doing in the Headmasters bedroom. Doing! She had, for Merlin’s sake, slept in his bedchamber! Sighing she looked around the room again, hoping to find her friend or something that might give a hint to where he was, or why she was here. The door leading into his living room was ajar and caught her attention for a split second, but another thought interrupted. Anotherbolt brought her up to her feet in no time; she had completely forgotten what day it was. She searched her brain, sincerely hoping it would be Saturday. However thinking back to yesterday, she found to her utmost horror yesterday was Thursday, and if yesterday was Thursday then today could only be Friday. Oh, crap and Circe! Where was a watch when you needed one! Never truly had she been a person with a lot of patience, so she ran out of the bedroom, into the living room, and was about to hastily floo back to her own chambers. At least that was her plans.But before she reached the fireplace, something – a shoe lying shamelessly on the floor – stopped her in her journey. With a strained cry she felt herself fall in slow-motion, yet didn’t have the time to alter the angle. She landed face forward on the floor, her arms flailing at her sides and pain, crucifying pain, erupted from her face and left her lying on the purple floor, absolutely immovable. “Whah,” she recognised Albus voice despite the groggy state of it. So, he had slept on the couch, obviously. She felt the sofa beside her creak, and she gathered she had woken him, and he was now wondering what, or who was making all the noise. “Elp,” was all she was able to stutter. “Minerva?”
“Jes, am wright hjere,” she found even moving her lips brought another wave of pain. She tried to sit up, and finally managed, the only problem now was facing Albus, a very distraught Albus at the look she got from him when he finally found her, sprawled out on his floor. “Merlin! What have you been doing, dear? You’re bleeding!” He said and was beside her in a second, taking hold of her hands, blue eyes full of worry, and slumber. “I tripped,” she looked to her right, “ over your shoe!”With a chuckle he helped her to her feet and beckoned her over to the couch. He told her to sit, and with that he went through a door, and was gone. She was too engrossed in her pain to wonder where he had gone, she could barely touch her nose without flinching. So when he came back she was glad to find it was with a wet cloth. “Thank you,” she said as she took the cloth and dipped it slightly to her nose, while he sat down beside her. “Maybe it’s broken,” she told him, the cloth covering half her face in a richly feeling of cool material. “Luckily we can get Madam Pompfrey to fix it then, we don’t want you to run around with a nose like mine,” he gave a grin pointing at his own disfigured nose, which had at least been broken ten times. She tried to grin back, but it caused more pain, so her grin was halfway to being a silent scream. It was at that moment she remembered why she had been in such a hurry, and had missed seeing the shoe in her way to the fireplace. “The clock! Classes!”His stopped her midway from jumping up from the couch with a hand on her shoulder :”Don’t worry, Minerva, it’s only half past 5 pm. Your first lesson is at ten. Lots of time to tend to your little nose,” he let go of her the moment he knew she wouldn’t panic more. “Thank you.”For some time they just sat on the soft fluffy couch, enjoying the silence – Minerva trying to quell the pain – and the comfort of just being together, sitting next to each other. “So, what were you up to yesterday? I thought you were supposed to be here at Hogwarts, I came by with the papers you needed. They’re out on you desk by the way,” she turned her head, and dared giving him a slightly disapproving frown. “Order business! I found you sound asleep in my chair, I couldn’t bear to wake you dear,” his tone was normal, even his eyes were their usual sparkling self. “You should have just patted my arm, I sleep lightly.”“Dear, not ten wild horses running by would have made a difference. Without any vital signs, I would’ve thought you were dead.” “Scoundrel,” the accusation was said with a light laughter as she gently hit his shoulder. The light atmosphere hung around them for a second or more, before the room again was full of tension and a sudden sadness, sadness she couldn’t quite grasp. “What kind of Order business? You could have told me, I despise not knowing where you are, or why you suddenly just disappear, without telling me the slightest of your plans,” he sighed when she finished, and she could feel a headache beginning to form right behind her left eye. “I fetched Harry,” he told her in a calm voice as he leaned back on the couch, the opposite wall had his whole attention now. “Oh,” again the silence, this time less comfortable. “How was he? Did the journey to the Burrow go well?”“He’s better than I anticipated. No trouble on the journey at all, couldn’t have been more pleasant,” at this he turned his head and gave her a semi smile. “Guess who is going to be your new colleague?”
“Changing subject rather fast, aren’t we Albus!”He rolled his eyes, bringing out a slight giggle from her. Devious as he was, Albus knew the effect he had on her, and made damn sure he used it when needed. She couldn’t really stay mad at him for long. “Let’s see… Someone I know?”
“Yes.”
“A former student?”“No, that would’ve been you doom!”
“Someone with an evil streak, I know! Hmm. Is it you?”
“Your dry humour never ceases to amaze me; you know that, don’t you, dear!”
“Yes, your rarely miss an occasion to tell me. So, is my new colleague male?”
“Now, you would like that, wouldn’t you! Another handsome wizard to look at,” he shook his head in false desperation. “So it’s a he?”
“Yes!”
“Someone – a male - I know…”
“Need more hints?”
“Is it a former teacher?”
“Crap, I’ve forgotten how good you’re at these mind-boggling games,” he exclaimed with a rather loud voice, bringing his arms up in defeat. She looked at him in bewilderment. She had no clue whom it could be. Someone she knew, a former teacher… Someone who would make the Weasley’s seem trivial… Oh no, he didn’t! “Oh no, Albus. Not him!”
“Indeed,” he said the word with all the smugness he could muster, and that was a lot that early in the morning. Sighing she leaned back on the couch as well, still with the cloth on her face. “Cheer up, Horace has been looking forward to seeing you again, my dear,” he gave another grin, smoothing wrinkles in her rope with delicate fingers. The other hand he had hidden behind his own layers of cloak, ropes and other material. Lately he did that, hidding his blackened hand. It saddened her. “If he’s fortunate, he’ll learn not toget on your wrong side, dear, and he is a quick leaner, so I’m sure you two will have a lovely time together,” he said it with an undertone of amusement, lying just below the surface of his kindness. “Maybe he’ll be the first colleague to help scheme a plot against the current Headmaster with me,” she was glad the cloth covered her mouth as well; it helped hid the uplifting of her mouth. “That depends, dear, do you know more important people than I do?”And the conversation went on, light teasing from both partners. The atmosphere again somewhat bright, sadness and other greyness hidden beneath a layer of friendly comfort. A/N:Sorry about the lateness of this. I've been so busy with everything, and on top of that writers block! Argh! I hate that Anyways, I hope you like this part, Pal:( waving a big banner with thanks to everyone you reviewed) Thank you )
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Post by palanfanaiel on Apr 11, 2006 15:30:00 GMT -5
Part 5
Time flew ahead without consideration on the behalf of humans, days numbered up to months and soon memories faded to distant blurs left in the back of your mind. It was with some perplexity and yet with a joyous mentality Minerva greeted the Christmas holidays, welcoming that time of year where heavy hearts and heavy minds were set at ease by the spirit of Christmas and family gatherings, even the cold weather and semi snow-covered landscape got elevated.
Time flew, and already the misty month of September had passed, the murky weather of October long gone and even the shadowy month of November had reached its peak and brought along a promise of a cold December. The first of September had gone in a blink and with the start of a new school year hope lay gently under the surface of stark fear.
Saturday had dawned as any other day in December, bringing yet another foggy shower upon the lands, covering her world in a hushed melody of raindrops. Despite, or perhaps in spite of the weather she had with sheer will forced herself out in the wet nature, rationalising the need for fresh air. A walk would do her good, clear a troubled mind for a while. Troubled she was; her head swimming in a pool of aching pain and the feel of her forehead resting over her eyes clouding her vision did nothing but further indulge that throbbing.
So with a brisk stride she wandered through the snow, breathing in the scent of an atmosphere where the air was crisp and the small drops of rain cool to her skin. She tried inhaling as much air as she could, tried to force it all the way down to her stomach; it stopped midway - cramped in her throat. Another heave for air and she had to bend over, hands on knees supporting her. Relaxation was slipping out of her soul every minute she spent being awake, not even truly there even in slumber.
Every happy memory, every remembrance of happy times spent with people she cared for, fell into a dark never ending abyss, flooding her mind with greys fears and a blanket of despair. She felt tired, tired of memories being replaced by all the sadness in her heart. And for the umpteenth time she wished she had someone to talk to, really talk to. She wished time would unravel, disentangling the horrors of humans and the madness of power to shape another time, one without despair, dread and death.
“May you feel the void of death,” she hissed at the ground, frustrations bringing long thin fingers into fists filled with a slumbering hatred.
“I hope you’re not referring to me, dear,” a voice whispered from behind her, voice melodious caring a breeze of familiarity. She spun around, half opened mouth ready to scream and the point of her wand resting slightly on his nose below veiled blue eyes.
“Albus, you scared me!” she lowered her arm and tried breathing normally again.
“Sorry, dear, that was not my intent,” he said with a gentle voice as he started walking, inclining she should follow. For a while they walked side by side in complete silence,she waswatching the snow at her feet and he was watching the horizon with a solemn look. Slowly she became aware of him humming softly beside her, a peaceful tune that should have carried sunrays in its paths. She wondered when he had begun humming, she was quite certain he must have started the humming very quietly. Exclusive of her knowledge she had linked her arm with his in all of her pondering, and they now walked even closer. Water came into view and on the top of a small knoll of a hill a fresh puff of air settled around them spontaneously bringing along a small flicker of intense bliss on both parts.
“May I ask whom you were referring to?” The sound of his voice startled her and for a few seconds she looked in confusion at his questioning eyes. When she finally caught on she averted her eyes and focussed on the sea only a few feet away, small waves hitting the shore in a lulling embrace.
“I… It was just a stupid remark,” she replied in a quiet voice, wetting her lower lip with the tip of her tongue. She felt him softly squeeze her arm but still her gaze was locked upon the dark water.
“Stupidity is not something I associate with you, my dear,” this time she felt hot air caress her ear and the sense of his soft languid lips close to the bare skin.
Another knot of air got stuck in her throat, this time born out of something altogether different than distress. His whisper though long gone still tingled her ear and skin, prodding her mind with ludicrous fantasies she considered buried in another era. It was with some hesitance she answered: “You-know-who!”
“Ahh,” was the reply, said with a knowledgeable tone. They had begun walking again, this time along the seaside, dark looming trees on their other side. The rain had stopped for the moment, leaving puddles of mud to live in its wake and for first time that day she saw patches of a blue sky hidden behind dark clouds.
“It seems so hopeless, Albus,” she told him and turned her head towards him, blank eyes meeting twinkling. She wished she had the strength that seemed to run freely in his veins, filled with optimism, trust and vigour. She wished dearly for such strength on which others could rely on, and take strength from.
“I know, so does the world at times appear, so hopeless. Fortunately for us, my dear, even in the bleakest of times there’s a beacon of light, of hope,” the words came to him so easy, rolled out of his mouth with a delicacy that graced his features.
“I feel blind then, blind to any beacon, be it of light or grey,” this time a shimmer of sorrow crossed his face, however it was quickly gone. So quickly, she doubted the fact that she had even seen such a thing. But she soon forgot as arms encircled her in a comforting embrace squeezing her body to his chest, which almost left her heaving for air.
She leaned in after a time, forgetting what lay beyond the two of them and rested her head on his shoulder. A wave of sadness hit her and she had to bite her lower lip to keep from crying, yet a small sound escaped her mouth.
“Even blind people can feel the warmth from a fire and the heat from hope, however small that may be,” he murmured into her hair, his voice bringing another small whimper from her.
And so they stood, there in the midst of a truce between the rain and blue skies, holding on to each other, contemplating life.
A/N:
I hope you find this chapter to your liking, it's not much...
Pal
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Post by Trulyamused on Apr 11, 2006 20:22:57 GMT -5
Great. You've really brought a 'wistful' mood to this piece.
Good characterization.
Truly
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deirdre
Gryffindor Seeker
"Today is the tomorrow we worried about yesterday..."
Posts: 47
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Post by deirdre on Apr 25, 2006 0:32:02 GMT -5
I really love this story, and I especially love the last sentence.
"And so they stood, there in the midst of a truce between the rain and blue skies, holding on to each other, contemplating life."
Are you going to continue?
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