Window Art

The summer haze cast a fiery glow about the building, enveloping it in warmth and sunshine, even as the sun began to set with ease. The cottage was a small quaint one, for no matter what he tried to grant her, she decided upon something simple and modest; something that would fit the both of them and not cause them to lose themselves within their own home.

"I am not going to have a home that I'll become lost in when I'm trying to find our rooms, love," she had shot adamantly when his offer went unheeded. He only wanted the best for her, and she settled with what may have been the cheapest home they looked at. It certainly was a home suited for them, seeing as the woman who had sold it to the two of them remarked that she had never had someone ask for it in any seriousness. This was puzzling, but perhaps it was not so: she was selling them a Muggle cottage, branching off into the realms of nowhere. It had certainly belonged to a Wizarding family before they had claimed it… Perhaps the Muggles who had also looked at became uneasy at the gentle, sweeping feeling magic evoked.

So they had settled there; the home was their own. He interfered little with the decorating, for he wisely knew in his heart that this was a woman's expertise. What remained his decision was the color of the great, kitchen draperies. He nervously changed the colors of them seventy different times magically, yet nothing seemed to work. Nothing seemed to fit just as the rest of the kitchen did. No matter what he did, it always looked wrong.

He left it finally at a color he was comfortable with; a vibrant purple that clashed horribly with the sensible rich green borders and pale cream walls. Minerva said not a word about his decoration, but judging from the many winces she shot at the drapes when she thought he wasn't looking, he knew she never did like it.

It was one night that he rose from his bed, and carefully let Minerva continue off in dreamland without his arms to hinder her progress. He stretched and wandered to the kitchen, finding the drapes open and waiting.

He lit a few candles on the candelabra near the top of his head, and he set to work, the heat slightly fogging his mind. After about ten minutes of this, he realized that his plans would be better seen outside the window. Humming quietly to himself, he exited the front door of their cottage and he wandered into the backyard.

He saw the garish curtains at once, for they stuck out quite a bit. He raised his wand to accomplish a softer purple, but not so bright, when a stirring within the kitchens interrupted his concentration.

The lights still burned brightly, but Minerva had moved in front of them. The action illuminated her ebony tresses with soft yellow light and Albus sighed without realization. She was breathtaking. The night was hot and stifling, and Albus could feel the sweat stream eagerly down the length of his back, frenzied by the woman he viewed before him. In favor of this heat, Minerva was donned only in a dressing gown that was cut low and short and sparkled with a slightly iridescent air, transparency being the ultimate yet afar goal. There were no other homes near to glimpse her in such a state of attire, yet he admired her bravery all the same. He could see the sweat flowing deliciously from her neck and falling slowly into the crevice he could not fully see. Her hair was down as she pulled the curtains closed with slow and steady movements, as if to make certain they were closed correctly. Her hair was matted in sweat he knew, but one word fully made a dent to his fevered brain: beautiful… She wiped the sweat from her brow just before she disappeared completely from view, and he groaned within himself; at least she was his own.

Thinking quickly, he cast a series of spells to bring him back to the bedroom before her. Once there, he began throwing his plans together for a most eventful sunrise they would view together.

As she opened the door, she frowned and inquired of his presence in the darkness. "Albus? Are you in here?" she whispered.

"Yes, love, here," he said in great, deep breaths, schooling his heart to serenity.

"Where did you disappear to?" she asked, stepping slowly as to avoid the heat from overwhelming her. It was much warmer there than it was before she had left to draw the curtains closed…

"Ah, I… fancied a walk… I don't suppose you were trying to find something to cool yourself down?"

She shook her head and made her way towards the bed, but Albus lit the dozens of candles waiting for his command. He stood before her, in his naked glory and cooled with many a cooling charms.

"Here?" she asked curiously, her eyes raking lovingly about his figure. "Not outside where the bugs can devour us?"

He chuckled without shame, pulling her to their overheated bed. "Yes, my dear…Here…" He pulled her close and she sighed as she found his skin cool to the touch.

She removed her gown without preamble, unveiling the soft, sweaty skin Albus knew had laid beneath.

There they made love, and Minerva moaned into his cool mouth as he brought her chilled pleasure… The warmth was no longer overwhelming, but was sweet and yielding to her own desire.

When the eternity ended, when they both were exhausted, when Minerva was no longer sweltering as a pig (as she so complimented herself), Albus had something to tell her.

"Minerva, I really did not go out for a walk…" he said softly as she rubbed her hands absentmindedly on his chest, running them cleanly down to his stomach before repeating the eternal journey.

She titled her head slightly to look at him, the love evident in the emerald windows of her soul. "Then where did you go?" she questioned in an equally quiet voice, fearing to lose this sweet pleasure of reuniting the sensation of fire and ice again.

He smiled a naughty smile, only evoking one of her own to match. "I was out…"

"Out?" she asked playfully, licking her lips and smacking them audibly.

He looked away for a moment to control himself and then continued. "I decided to go outside to change the color of the drapes, but perhaps it was best that I left them purple…"

"Indeed?"

He chuckled as he planted a soft, cooled kiss to Minerva's neck before relating the rest of his tale. "I could tell what windows they were from the rest, and then I saw you… The rest is history… You should really use some cooling charms in the summertime, my dear, though I'm not complaining. I've never seen you looking more delectable."

Minerva snorted, but smiled. "Oh yes, me all sweaty and certainly smelly… My hair matted in that stench of heat… That is attractive in every sense of the word…"

Albus shook his head against her as he brought her flesh up against him again. The light blanket covering Minerva now did nothing to hide her figure as he did this. He moaned inwardly at the sensation and was pleased when Minerva responded in kind audibly.

"I cannot understand how you do not see your beauty, my dear Minerva… My dearest, wonderful, beautiful Minerva…"

Minerva smirked. "Oh I do see it. I see it when you need my love… I see it in your eyes, when I can see my reflection. It certainly does not look like me then…"

"Of course it doesn't. It is because we are not seeing the same picture… I'm seeing you as you really are, and you just see your 'reflection'. There is a great difference. I see the enduring care for everyone you radiate and you simply disregard it… You returning that tangible love I give you increases your beauty by tenfold. I lost my resolve as you drew the drapes because you were the art I could not take my eyes off… Window art…"

Minerva grinned. "'Window art'? I've definitely topped the star charts with that title."

Albus smiled as he saw the belief shining in her eyes, unsullied by any lingering doubts about how beautiful she was to him. There, he proved to her again just how beautiful he thought window art was as the sun finally kissed the sky good morning.