Men!
"Men!" Rolanda slammed her empty shot glass down on the table, and glared around her. "Do you know what Severus did today?!"
Poppy's eyes shone eagerly. "Tell us!" She commanded.
As Rolanda began her story about how Severus had sulked for a week after she threw away some mouldy old herbs, which just happened to be rare potions ingredients, Minerva's mind drifted back down the years, to the first time she had taken part in this monthly ritual with Rolanda, Pomona and Poppy.
She had been newly married to Albus Dumbledore then, and as blissfully happy as any new bride could be.
The four friends had been sitting round the table in the Hog's Head inn, small glasses, and several huge bottles of firewhiskey had been laid out on the table in front of them, logs had blazed merrily in the fireplace, and their eyes had shone in the warm glow.
Minerva had been more than a little confused, when earlier that day Poppy had sidled up to her with a strange gleam in her eyes, and whispered excitedly, "You're ready now Minerva! You're one of us! Come to the Hog's Head at 8.00pm tonight!"
Before Minerva could query in rather indignant tones whether she hadn't always been one of them, and what on earth was this nonsence, Poppy had vanished with a quick wink.
Minerva was still slightly confused as she sat at the table in the Hog's Head with her friends, later that night. It was not uncommon that they went for a nice relaxing drink together. So, what was so special about this?
"Stays up all night testing new potions, and then flops into bed without so much as a word, and sleeps till midday!" Rolanda complained, as she drained her glass in one go, and slammed it on the table with a crash. "Men!" She bellowed.
Immediately Poppy and Pomona drained their glasses, and slammed them down with a loud crash, whilst bellowing "Men!" in disgusted tones. Minerva blinked in bewilderment, this seemed almost like some kind of ritual, and it was completely baffling. Her friends seemed almost to enjoy complaining about their men. Didn't they love them? Weren't they happy to be married?
"Join in Minerva." Poppy hissed, as she nudged Minerva in the ribs.
Still mystified, Minerva took a sip from her glass, placed it carefully on the table, and attempted to bellow "Men!" in a disgusted tone. She was unable to refrain from smiling though, as she thought how wonderful her new husband was. How it was so adorable the way his whiskers tickled her face softly everytime he kissed her, how tender his hands were as he caressed her, and how his blue eyes sparkled so magically as he brought her a bunch of wild flowers every single day.
"You're not doing it right!" Rolanda complained, "you're not meant to be happy about your man!"
"Stop smiling in that disgustingly sickening way!" Pomona added disapprovingly, as she waved her glass haphazardly in the air. "Honestly new brides..." She added disparagingly.
Just as Minerva opened her mouth to protest, Poppy who was always the peacemaker in their little group intervened. "Perhaps you'd better just watch us for a while Minerva, then maybe you will get the hang of it." She patted Minerva's arm soothingly.
Minerva watched curiously as first Poppy, then Pomona and Rolanda complained about their husbands, drained a glass and slammed it down on the table with a disgusted bellow of "Men!"
"Now, you try Minerva..." Poppy whispered.
Minerva supposed that she was meant to complain about albus, to come up with something awful he had done, but she couldn't think of a single thing, he was wonderful to her in every way. She was almost tempted to say that Albus was perfect to her, and that she had never been so happy, but these were her friends so she supposed she ought to at least try. So she twisted her face into an expression of what hopefully looked like rage, and snarled "His beard is ticklish when he kisses me!" Minerva forced herself not to add that she actually found it rather pleasant. Instead she drained her glass in one go, tried to ignore her watering eyes, slammed it on the table and bellowed "Men!" in what she hoped was a thouroughly convincing manner.
Sadly her friends did not seem at all convinced, for Poppy shook her head despairingly, Rolanda shot an exasperrated glare at her, and Pomona demanded to know what on earth that was meant to be.
Minerva's emerald eyes flashed dangerously as she eyed them. Really, they could at least appreciate the fact that she had tried! Indignantly she rose to her feet, ready to tell them exactly what she thought, but before she could speak, Poppy had drawn her out into the hall.
"Poppy why would you want to complain about your husbands? Don't you love Alastor anymore, are you two having problems?" Minerva demanded at once. "And what about Pomona? I thought she was so happy with Filius."
Don't be silly Minerva, of course I still love Alastor, and of course Filius and Pomona still adore each other. This is just our way of venting our annoyance at all the frustrating and just downright stupid things that our husbands do."
"But Albus is wonderful to me Poppy, why just today he bought me a beautiful bunch of wild flowers, which he had picked himself even though it was raining, and yesterday ..."
Poppy wagged a warning finger at Minerva. "No Minerva, not tonight!" She said warningly, "Any other time you want to tell me how wonderful Albus is I will listen, but tonight is when we complain about our men. Now there must be something that Albus does that annoys you, surely."
Minerva had huffed indignantly at first, but once she saw how disappointed Poppy looked, she had done her best to come up with a complaint about Albus which would satisfy her friends.
And when she had slammed her glass down on the table, with a resounding crash and bellowed "Men!" in furious tones, none of them had even guessed that Minerva was venting her rage at them, for getting her to particicpate in something she considered so foolish.
Over the years, so as not to disappoint her friends Minerva had learnt to fake it. To be immensely creative with her complaints about Albus' bad behaviour. So much so that her friends always listened with great eagerness to Minerva's stories, and none of them so much as guessed that in reality minerva was thinking about how wonderful, how adorable Albus still was even after all these years. How he still brought her a bunch of wildflowers every single day, how he still kissed her fondly every time he had to part from her, and how, though his long beard was now silver instead of auburn, it still tickled her in the most adorable way whenever he kissed her. How his eyes still lit up magically whenever he saw her, how he held her as though she were the most precious thing in the world to him, and how his smile could charm her into doing the craziest things.
When the ritual of complaining about their men was over, Minerva would return home to her husband's welcoming embrace, and as they snuggled up together he would chuckle and ask, "Did you have fun complaining about me my dear?"
And Minerva would repeat for him all the stories she had told her friends. Albus would laugh merrily, and applaud her creativity, then tease her by saying that he must make sure to live up to her stories.
Author's Notes
This is an old story I wrote about a year ago for Camp NaNoWriMo, and then forgot all about. I recently found it hiding on my hard drive, and decided to publish it.
It was written in a mad rush for Camp, and I'd love feedback on it. :)