Start again
Two years had passed since the end of the war, three since my best friend has gone for ever. Maybe we were more than friends, but I just realized that too late. And however now it is pointless. I have to think about the school, the students; now I am the headmistress and I try to do my best, even if I perfectly know that it will never be enough, I will never be able to be compared to my predecessor. Who I want to make a fool of? I will never be like you!
And now I find myself here, sitting in a office, one that I would have never liked to obtain. I'm afraid, afraid of not making it, of not bear all this situation… I feel so alone. It's Saturday afternoon, there are no lessons. Most of the students are at Hogsmade and I can feel more my loneliness.
My hair is tight in the usual bun. I smile. You always told me to let them down, but I never did, not even once, I always thought it was unprofessional. Lay down my hair meant seeing my defenses fall. And yet you, and only you, were able to melt my soul and I never understood how.
I miss you: that's the truth. Talking with your picture is not the same. I miss your so enigmatic sentences full of hidden meanings, I miss your smile, I miss your voice, I miss our little talks and our walks, I miss your light blue eyes that could read inside me, I miss your odd glasses, I miss your courage, I miss your wisdom, I even miss your beloved sweets… I miss feeling you around, I miss you, Albus. I've lived my whole life loving you and I did not even know that.
And now it is too late to start again. Inevitably a tear falls down my cheek and I can't control it. I close my eyes, trying to hold another tear, but in the end I surrender. The tears now fall down copiously and I don't even try to stop them anymore. How long it is since I've cried? And since I've laughed? I think both of the things have gon with you, Albus and that's not fair.
"It isn't too late Minerva!"
That's incredible, you are a picture, only a picture and yet you still can read inside of me. Legilimens. Is that a picture's ability? I don't think so.
"Go beyond appearance" you say again.
I don't understand. Another of your enigmatic sentences. I didn't like them then, I don't like them now… But I miss them.
"What do you mean?" I ask in a whisper, closing my eyes.
It's strange but I don't want a picture to see me cry. Because that's what you are now, a picture. I have to say that to myself to realize that concretely. I open my eyes again, to look at yours that even if only painted, seem to conserve the flash of curiosity.
You don't answer me, you just smile and with your head hint to the window. I try to regain control, and then approach it. It's raining. Poor children, they can't enjoy their free afternoon. That's my first thought, because my children are all that's left to me.
The few students in the castle are out. About thirty umbrellas of different colors pass in front of my eyes, while the sky's tears fall upon them. I didn't want to be the only one to cry today, the rain somehow cheers me up. Suddenly among the umbreallas, I notice a particular one, with green-silver stripes. It doesn't take me long to understand that it belongs to a Slytherin and something makes me believe to have understood also the exact identity of the owner. A smile must be on my lips.
"You are the only one in the castle, Minerva"
Again that voice. That voice so close and yet so far. I turn to the picture. You are smiling. I am smiling too. One day we will see each other again and they will put me, maybe, right beside you. But for now there is another persone who's waiting for me, and it's not right to keep him wait. I glance at you once more and finally I close the door of the office behind me. I cross almost the whole castle, without hurry, looking around that place that has become my house.
I arrive outside and he's there. He's smiling. I don't understand. Was he waiting for me? Actually, he's been waiting too much and it's not just about today. I find him undearable: he use partiality with his students and after all he use partiality also with me; he talks too much, even if I know that are exactly his talks to keep me from falling into dark loneliness; he gives annoying advice, but I find myself to think about it and… He's a Slytherin. He hasn't got any courage, not enough to tell me how he feels.
Horace is not like you, Albus, he will never be. And that's why I like him.
I approach him and open my umbrella: it has stripes like his one, but there is a little change, the colors, red and gold.
"You are finally out of that office!" he exclaims, noticing me immediately.
"Yes" I nod with very little conviction.
"Oh, that's why it's raining then!" he comments, ironically.
I forgot to add this: his silly jokes. They are not enigmatic as yours, but somehow I like them too.
"It may be" I answer, slightly annoyed.
He's smiling while looking at me.
"You should let your hair down, you know?" he asks, still with the smile on his lips.
"Yes, I know that…" I say, looking down for a moment.
It's impossible not to think about you. You always told me to and yet I never did… And maybe that's exactly the point: I have to break the link with the past, leave your memories in that office, your image in that picture and keep your eyes in my heart.
I look up again to find his stare. His eyes are not like yours, they aren't blue, they're green, not bright, pale. An then I choose. I let my hair down, without interrupting the contact between our eyes. My raven hair, turning now into gray falls on my shoulder. His look is surprised: he probably never believed that I would actually did and besides it was the first time that someone saw me like this. Because I never let my hair down, not even in front of you. Because now it's the moment to release my hart.
I approach him even more. The umbrellas touch, mixing their colors and our noses meet too. It's a moment and I realize we're kissing.
I can start again. Thank you, Albus.