Framework Love Story
I sat in Dumbledore's office eying the scenery once more. His office was a museum to the strange, but it was the most magical place in all of Hogwarts. Portraits from past leaders flickered in my peripheral vision as they moved around in their frames. A few were together playing a round of wizard chest, and the others were doing other things that made me envy them.
But I was in Dumbledore's office for a different reason entirely. It was a few months after the Yule Ball, and I kept thinking of dancing with him, of drinking butterbeer with him and laughing the entire night. I was the happiest I'd ever been, and I could not stop thinking about my moments with him. I had to discuss the matter with him before it drove me crazy.
"Minerva, what brings you in today? I do hope your Gryffindors are alright," Albus smiled, sitting down at his desk with a light sighed. I nodded slightly; the students were doing fairly well despite the commotion in the castle from the cup. "Well, why are you here? You look so flustered, but I see nothing to be afraid of."
"I've been thinking of a particular time, and I-," I stammered, pausing and taking a long, slow breath. "I cannot stop thinking of the Yule Ball."
"Well that's already passed. What is there to think about?" Albus asked with a light smile.
"I know 'tis already passed," I sighed. "I can't stop thinking about the night itself, the night it happened, and the things we did. It was...magical. I've never felt younger and more carefree. And it's all thanks to you, Albus. I can't stop thinking of the Yule Ball because of you," I smiled, exhaling slowly. Well, that's done now, I thought, watching him digest my words.
"Minerva, you are one of the most important people in this entire school. I hold you in extremely high regards, but only as a colleague. We are all entitled to have fun together while we're here, but I feel these feelings you've discussed are affecting your work. Are you aware that you sent me a blank scroll of parchment a few weeks ago instead of the class list I requested?" Albus questioned. I thought for a moment, blushing slightly as I realized I couldn't recall the moment. "You're distracted by lustful feelings that can never come to be. I am a professional man, Minerva. I mix business with pleasure on occasion, but namely because I love my job. I'm passionate about doing the right thing for the position. I could never help you with those feelings. I apologize."
"No, no, I'm the fool," I sighed. "It's been an era of nothing romantic for me, nothing entertaining. I love my career as well, but I feel...I feel lonely. I don't feel that way around you. I never have. I'm sorry I've crossed the line by admitting these feelings to you. I-It won't happen again, and I'll get the renewed class list for you," I stammered, deciding it was best to just flee the room.
A few doors down from my office, Professor Flitwick dove into my path to keep from dropping his tall stack of books. He didn't see me dive into what I thought was an empty classroom in a hope that he wouldn't see the tears flowing down my cheek. I knew to stay in the classroom until he was gone, which made me curious about my surroundings. I used a handkerchief to clear my vision, and what I was able to see in the very dim light was the outline of a portrait I'd never seen before. I used my wand to light the room, and I came face to face with a very handsome man dozing peacefully inside his portrait.
He was the most gorgeous man I'd ever seen, and I felt myself sink to the dusty floor in order to stare into the portrait. He sensed this staring and stirred with a gentle smile. He reached his hand towards me, eying me with a grin I couldn't place. Then he too kneeled before me, and we locked in a stare of pure love.
"Professors, I called you together to ask if you'd seen Minerva around recently," Dumbledore said with a worried tone. "We had a very important conversation earlier, but I've heard nothing from her sense, and she never reported to her afternoon classes."
Professors Snape and Flitwick exchanged glances before shaking their heads. While Professor Flitwick thought someone was near him when he tripped with his books, he never saw anyone else. He blamed the event on one of the school's ghosts or multiple ghosts. He could never tell with those unruly beings.
"Should we conduct a search, Headmaster?" Professor Snape questioned. Dumbledore's eyes were fixed to the floor as he thought, and Professor Snape had to repeat the question just to get through to the man.
"Yes, yes, a search, but we must keep this very quiet. The students and our foreign guests would be in an uproar if they realized she was gone," Dumbledore said quickly and fiercely. The men realized the magnitude of the situation now, and they immediately disbursed into the castle, which had little foot traffic due to the approaching curfew.
The professors split up, with Professor Snape going towards the lower floors while Professor Flitwick went upwards. They knew it was a lot of ground to cover no matter how they divided the work, and both were unsure if Dumbledore would join them or not. He seemed deep in thought, and both were just as worried about his condition as they were Professor McGonagall's.
As the professors searched, Dumbledore put on a robe he rarely wore, a blue robe with a hood. He placed the hood over his head and took to the hallways, trying to be as quiet as possible. He wanted to check a particular room that he'd nearly forgotten about, a room that was supposed to be sealed from outsiders unless the need arose. If Professor McGonagall was as lovesick as she seemed in his office, the room may have come available to her. And since the heads of the houses hadn't returned with word on the elusive professor, he knew he should check there.
When he opened the door, he could see the portrait and Professor McGonagall sitting in a pool of wand light. He sighed carefully, approaching the pair as quietly as possible. He drew his wand, and in an instant, the portrait was wrapped in an impenetrable force field, breaking Professor McGonagall's concentration and making her look up.
"I'm afraid that finding him was a mistake, Minerva. Come with me and we'll get you sorted out," Dumbledore smiled. Minerva shook her head, returning to her original position with a very clear swoon. She was under the portrait's spell, and Dumbledore would have to break it before he could save her fully. Because the force field didn't work, he'd have to try one last method.
He used his power to turn off the wand light coming from Professor McGonagall's wand. The room became so dark that Dumbledore couldn't see his own hand in front of his face. But when his eyes adjusted, he realized the spell was still in effect, despite the darkness.
"Minerva, I have to do this. I cannot let another good professor be ruined by this horrid man," Albus whispered. Minerva rose up to defend her newfound love from his harsh words, exactly what Dumbledore wanted her to do. Suddenly the portrait burst into flames, causing both man and Minerva to scream louder than either ever had before.
"NO! PUT IT OUT! SAVE HIM!" Professor McGonagall screamed.
Dumbledore shook his head, holding Minerva back from the flames, "I'm sorry, Minerva. I'm truly sorry."
When the portrait was merely a pile of ash, Minerva went into a state of grief so strong that she needed the hospital wing's treatment. Professors Flitwick and Snape were called from their search, and while Professor Flitwick guarded the hospital wing, Professor Snape brewed a specific potion to give to the distraught woman, a potion with its name blacked out. Neither professor asked questions, and shortly after sunrise, Minerva snapped out of her grief. Dumbledore cleared the wing of everyone, including the reluctant Madam Pomphrey, and he sat beside the distraught professor.
"My memory is a little hazy, Albus. Do you mind telling me what happened?" Minerva asked weakly. Dumbledore told her everything about the portrait and its magical hold on her. A lonely painter created the piece, and once it was discovered to send brokenhearted people into a deadly state of extreme love, the portrait was locked inside Hogwarts. But the door would open if a brokenhearted person approached it, hence why it opened for Professor McGonagall.
"I've wanted to destroy the portrait for years, but I did not know how the painter would react. She passed away a few years ago, but I'd forgotten to fulfill my duty. It's gone now, and that's all that matters," Albus smiled.
"What has me so confused is how I got to be so heartsick in the first place," Professor McGonagall chuckled. "It's been decades since I had a crush, probably since I was a Hogwarts student myself," she laughed. Albus grinned. Her memory of her heartache was erased by the portrait, the one good deed the portrait actually did.
But Albus Dumbledore was a good man, and he told Professor McGonagall why she'd fallen into such a state. Her smile faded only slightly. If one was reminded, the memories could return, and they played behind her eyes like a blissful movie.
"Minerva, I apologize for not being able to give you the chance of love," Albus whispered, "but we're both professionals. We cannot compromise our work relationship with our personal issues. Though I will make you a promise. You may keep your feelings for me, and if there's ever a time when we can be together, I will give the relationship a chance. Honestly, I've always felt you would've been a good match for me, but...well, business is business."
"I understand," Minerva sighed, smiling slightly. "I hope we get the chance, Albus. I really do."
The two parted ways as the castle came to life. Professor McGonagall was given the day off to recover from her ordeal. Rather than stay in the hospital wing, she fought Madam Pomphrey to spend the day in her office. When she got there, she pulled out a Muggle typewriter and a box of blank paper she'd acquired from an old colleague before they left to study Romanian culture. She put the paper into the machine, careful to make everything neat, and then she began to type.
Minerva had written before, namely poems and other short stories, but this was bigger than that. She wanted to write a novel with her feelings, just in case the promise Albus made could never be answered. She typed for hours, the papers piling up in another box beside her. She grew weary, but her heart felt better, as did her weary mind.
That evening, she wrote the final page, as well as a dedication poem for Albus. She stacked the pages and bound them using a spell she learned from a bookmaker decades ago. With the volume complete, she placed it on a shelf, where it blended with other volumes of magic books and transfiguration studies. Minerva smiled to herself. She may never get to experience a relationship with Albus for real, but it was on paper now, and she'd learned how to control her urges appropriately: Through writing.
Theme 009: Matters of the Soul
To complete the themes yourself, I have the list posted on my profile. The list is for any type of fan fiction (one-shot, drabble, etc.) and any fandom. Challenge yourself in other ways to make it more fun, and enjoy!