DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters. They all belong to J. K. Rowling.
The Hardest Thing To Say
Minerva McGonagall was standing still as the world slowly collapsed around her.
The evening was beautiful, but the ugliness of the event yet to come was about to taint it forever. The vibrant colours of the twilight would become dreadful and gray, and all the beauty will be eradicated.
Dougal McGregor was on his knees before her, and her head was spinning. How could she not have seen this coming? How could she be so foolish? His soft voice penetrated her thoughts and pain spread around her torso.
"So, my love, what is your answer?"
The soft hum of the leaves in the distance was calming, but in her head and her heart, Minerva felt a hurricane.
She never should have let this come so far.
She prided herself into being a rational human being. Logic was, in the end, the only thing she could rely on. Logic and common sense. It kept her sensible and focused. It allowed her to exploit intellectual challenges and broaden her horizons in ways unimaginable. It allowed her to plan all her moves carefully, never take foolish risks, and only grow as an academic and a person.
And yet she failed to prevent her heart from falling for the Muggle kneeling in front of her, looking at her like she was the world.
He was the one her silly heart decided on, ever since the moment he brought her an Alpine catchfly and declared her the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Dougal laid his heart open to her, and pursued her despite all her protest until she finally yielded. Minerva knew it was only going to give her grief, but she let herself fall in love nonetheless.
Minerva knew what answer he expected.
To succumb to his desires would mean to capitulate. She would have to give up everything she worked for – all the long years of studying, insistent preparation for the 'bigger and better' behind Hogwarts' walls. She would have to quench her thirst for knowledge and submissively accept that her ambitions, the ones she had dreamed up ever since she was a child, were to be broken and left in the dust at that very instant on a ploughed field on his family's farm.
There would be no Ministry of Magic, no great deeds awaiting her. She would stay here with him, and give birth to his children, and maybe, sometimes, get to use magic when he wasn't around. She would have to deny herself the calming effect in the aftermath of a spell, when she felt that everything was right in the world as the magic coursed through her veins and made her a little dizzy. There would be no more of that – only plain, simple, non-magical way of things.
Her wand, which she always kept shrunken in her garter, suddenly felt like it weighted tons.
On the other hand, looking into his loving eyes, she recalled all their kisses and caresses throughout that summer. She recalled the feel of him and the loving touch of his hand upon her cheek. She recalled the illogical and terrifying, yet gentle and warm feeling she felt inside whenever he was around.
Minerva allowed herself to bask in those memories for just a moment, and to imagine little blue-eyed children running around her, calling her 'Mother'.
She allowed herself a second of delightful and enchanting delusions, and a tear rolled down her cheek. She wished only to hold him for one last time, because she knew, after she had spoken, that she would never have the same opportunity again.
The world shall fall apart, and the pieces would crash and burn and disappear in an array of smoke, and no one would ever be able to fix it again.
As Minerva opened her eyes and looked down at him, she saw no doubt on his face. She saw the fondness, the belief that she would, indeed, agree to become his wife. The calm river behind his gaze, without an ounce of doubt in their love, and in her answer stabbed her like thousand knives as she spoke the one word that would ruin it all and forever.
"No."