Only You
A/N: Minerva of Tortall/uber grasshopper once suggested that Dumbledore broke his nose due to a run-in with the Whomping Willow. stoneygem added to the idea and, thus, a plot bunny was born.
"Only you, Albus," Minerva McGonagall told the Headmaster of Hogwarts one summer afternoon. "Only you would do something like this."
"I assure you, my dear," Albus replied, a little annoyed with himself for once, "that I had no intention of getting injured."
She smiled and patted his hand. "I know, Albus, but you're the only person I know who would risk getting hit by the Whomping Willow for a bunch of flowers."
"Not just _any_ flowers, my dear," he corrected, indicating the bouquet nearby. "They are very rare and this was the first time I saw them on the grounds."
She raised an eyebrow at him. "So why didn't you leave them to grow? You wouldn't have broken your nose again."
He sighed. "They reminded me of a certain lady I am acquainted with."
"Oh?" She studied him carefully. "Who?"
He picked up the bouquet and offered them to her. "You."
"Me?" she asked, surprised, not taking the proffered flowers.
"Yes." He nodded, still holding the bouquet out to her.
She slowly took them and breathed in their scent before examining them more closely. "They _are_ rather beautiful, in their own way."
"Indeed, they are," he agreed quietly, gazing steadily at her.
She looked up at him. "Why were you wandering the grounds, anyway? It's not like you didn't have anything better to do."
"I needed to think," he answered with an uncomfortable shrug. "And I thought some fresh air would help."
"So you went walking around the grounds, spotted the flowers, and, disregarding the fact that the Whomping Willow was nearby, decided to pick them?" she inquired skeptically.
He nodded. "Yes, that's the general idea."
She threw up her hands in exasperation. "What am I going to do about you, Albus Dumbledore?" She rose and, setting the bouquet on his desk, began to pace his study. "Honestly, there are times when you're worse than the students!"
He gingerly felt the bandage covering his long nose. "I thought I'd be safe, Minerva, but it seems I was wrong."
"Well, of course!" She spun to face him, her emerald robes billowing around her. "_You're_ the one who planted the bloody tree in the first place!"
"And for a good reason, my dear," he reminded her, pressing the tips of his long fingers together."
"Yes, yes, I know." She waved that off. "Mr. Lupin seems to be settling in well. The other young lions haven't really questioned his absences."
"Good, good." Albus adjusted a pile of parchment on his desk, carefully lining up the edges. When he looked up, Minerva was staring at him. "What is it, my dear?"
"You only do that if you're trying to decide what or how to say something," she commented, sinking onto the sofa in front of the fire.
He sighed, stood up, and crossed the room to sit beside her on the sofa. "You're right, my dear. Part of the reason I went for a walk was to decide how to tell a very dear friend of mine that she's more important to me than anything else in the world."
She stared at him once more, dark green eyes wide. "Who is this dear friend, Albus?"
"Very dear," Albus corrected gently, reaching over to cover her hand with his. "And that friend is you, Minerva."
She gazed at him for a long moment. He could feel her hand trembling under his. When she spoke, her voice was strained. "Albus, I hope you aren't joking with me."
"I have never been more serious in my life, Minerva," he answered soberly, raising his other hand to caress her cheek. "All these years, you have been my dearest friend, but I no longer want friendship." When she would have spoken, he covered her mouth with his hand. "I want more than that." He traced her lips with the tip of one long finger. "So much more."
Blinking back tears, she spoke, a smile slowly appearing, "Oh, Albus, I want more, too, but wasn't sure if I had the right to demand more."
"Of course you do, my dear," he assured her, gently pulling her into his arms. At last, their lips met in the first of an eternity kisses. The moment was broken, however, when he pulled away. "Ouch!"
"Albus, what is it?" she asked, looking concerned.
"That hurt my nose," he admitted, looking at her apologetically.
She smiled and pressed a kiss to his nose. "To make it better."
He smiled back and pulled her into his arms once more. This time, they were careful of his nose.
**Finite**
A/N: Minerva of Tortall/uber grasshopper once suggested that Dumbledore broke his nose due to a run-in with the Whomping Willow. stoneygem added to the idea and, thus, a plot bunny was born.
"Only you, Albus," Minerva McGonagall told the Headmaster of Hogwarts one summer afternoon. "Only you would do something like this."
"I assure you, my dear," Albus replied, a little annoyed with himself for once, "that I had no intention of getting injured."
She smiled and patted his hand. "I know, Albus, but you're the only person I know who would risk getting hit by the Whomping Willow for a bunch of flowers."
"Not just _any_ flowers, my dear," he corrected, indicating the bouquet nearby. "They are very rare and this was the first time I saw them on the grounds."
She raised an eyebrow at him. "So why didn't you leave them to grow? You wouldn't have broken your nose again."
He sighed. "They reminded me of a certain lady I am acquainted with."
"Oh?" She studied him carefully. "Who?"
He picked up the bouquet and offered them to her. "You."
"Me?" she asked, surprised, not taking the proffered flowers.
"Yes." He nodded, still holding the bouquet out to her.
She slowly took them and breathed in their scent before examining them more closely. "They _are_ rather beautiful, in their own way."
"Indeed, they are," he agreed quietly, gazing steadily at her.
She looked up at him. "Why were you wandering the grounds, anyway? It's not like you didn't have anything better to do."
"I needed to think," he answered with an uncomfortable shrug. "And I thought some fresh air would help."
"So you went walking around the grounds, spotted the flowers, and, disregarding the fact that the Whomping Willow was nearby, decided to pick them?" she inquired skeptically.
He nodded. "Yes, that's the general idea."
She threw up her hands in exasperation. "What am I going to do about you, Albus Dumbledore?" She rose and, setting the bouquet on his desk, began to pace his study. "Honestly, there are times when you're worse than the students!"
He gingerly felt the bandage covering his long nose. "I thought I'd be safe, Minerva, but it seems I was wrong."
"Well, of course!" She spun to face him, her emerald robes billowing around her. "_You're_ the one who planted the bloody tree in the first place!"
"And for a good reason, my dear," he reminded her, pressing the tips of his long fingers together."
"Yes, yes, I know." She waved that off. "Mr. Lupin seems to be settling in well. The other young lions haven't really questioned his absences."
"Good, good." Albus adjusted a pile of parchment on his desk, carefully lining up the edges. When he looked up, Minerva was staring at him. "What is it, my dear?"
"You only do that if you're trying to decide what or how to say something," she commented, sinking onto the sofa in front of the fire.
He sighed, stood up, and crossed the room to sit beside her on the sofa. "You're right, my dear. Part of the reason I went for a walk was to decide how to tell a very dear friend of mine that she's more important to me than anything else in the world."
She stared at him once more, dark green eyes wide. "Who is this dear friend, Albus?"
"Very dear," Albus corrected gently, reaching over to cover her hand with his. "And that friend is you, Minerva."
She gazed at him for a long moment. He could feel her hand trembling under his. When she spoke, her voice was strained. "Albus, I hope you aren't joking with me."
"I have never been more serious in my life, Minerva," he answered soberly, raising his other hand to caress her cheek. "All these years, you have been my dearest friend, but I no longer want friendship." When she would have spoken, he covered her mouth with his hand. "I want more than that." He traced her lips with the tip of one long finger. "So much more."
Blinking back tears, she spoke, a smile slowly appearing, "Oh, Albus, I want more, too, but wasn't sure if I had the right to demand more."
"Of course you do, my dear," he assured her, gently pulling her into his arms. At last, their lips met in the first of an eternity kisses. The moment was broken, however, when he pulled away. "Ouch!"
"Albus, what is it?" she asked, looking concerned.
"That hurt my nose," he admitted, looking at her apologetically.
She smiled and pressed a kiss to his nose. "To make it better."
He smiled back and pulled her into his arms once more. This time, they were careful of his nose.
**Finite**