For the Tien Len Competition on HPFC with the prompts Elphinstone Urquart and fireplace. Word Count: 549
"I'm sorry," she says, but she will not meet his eyes.
She stands before him, hands folded, shaking her head at a contract that others in the Auror office would give anything for. Elphinstone doesn't know why he is surprised; of all people, Minerva would be the one to turn down the opportunity of a lifetime.
"What are you saying?"
"I'm going back to Scotland," she says. "I… it's where I belong."
She leaves her badge on his desk, and turns to walk out the door, taking his silence as acceptance, but he stops her as her hand touches the doorknob.
"But we need you."
I need you.
Still, she does not meet his eyes, but he sees the shadow of a smile. A sad one. He'd like to think it's a regretful one, but he knows better.
It's not until after she's gone and he is alone, staring into the fireplace that it occurs to him that he never asked her to stay.
"I'm sorry," she says, and he knows that she means it. The straight line of her mouth quavers, but her resolve does not, and he does not dare to hope. She's too stubborn, too independent and perfect. And she doesn't love him.
He sits back in his chair, wondering how he got himself into this mess. This tea shop is too…quaint, too ordinary and it smells of lavender and scones and it is not the sort of place where they belong. And yet…
He fumbles with a ring, his face going red. "I knew it was too much to expect," he says, and puts it back in his pocket.
"I'm sorry," she says again. She reaches for his hand, and he lets her take it, wondering if this will be his only chance.
And later he sits in a dingy room above the Three Broomsticks, his gaze fixed on a distant castle and wondering if he could have made her happy anyway. He wonders if he had asked her to stay all those years ago if things would have been different.
All he hears is her apology ringing in his ears, and it kills him because he is the one who is sorry. Sorry he let her go. Sorry he isn't a Muggle farmer. Sorry Scotland is so far away.
"I'm sorry," she says, but he doesn't know what for.
They are standing on the edge of the lake, her arm linked with his, a storm brewing on the horizon.
"There's nothing to be sorry for," he says.
"You're too generous, Finn," she insists. "You uprooted your entire life for me after making you wait so long. I fear I am a selfish woman."
He shakes his head, putting a hand over her own, his heart leaping with joy at the feeling of an engagement ring on her finger. It isn't much, but it's all he's ever had to offer her and finally she's accepted it. But not without an apology.
Of course not.
"You are not selfish," he assures her. "You're sensible and brave and you don't give your heart lightly. And I wouldn't want you to."
He kisses her forehead lightly, and then tightens his hold on her as the darkening sky threatens to open up. "Come on," he urges. "Let's go inside."