Wild Lavender
They stood in a green and private glade; a man and a maid, with the wild lavender growing to their knees. And it was so easy, after all, to hold each other. Laughing at the surprising simplicity of it, how natural it was to sink into the fragrance of the flowers and into each other, soft petals and kisses, laughter intermingling now with quick breaths. The joy of this happiness melding with the warmer joy of desire long withheld, as skin heated at the other's touch, and seemed about to burst into tingling flame. And amidst the crushed lavender, whispering broken words of love long unspoken but always present, they did burst together and tumbled into sweet oneness, discovering each other in themselves at last.
After a perfect eternity…
"Albus?"
"Beloved?"
"Next time…"
"There will be a next time, then?" He propped himself up on an elbow to gaze into her face, blue eyes blazing brighter than the afternoon summer sky overhead.
"I suppose so," she said, and added somewhat diffidently, "If, that is… if you want to?"
He moved, slightly, and she could not stop her sudden response, nor the sound which escaped her. "Stop that!"
"Stop what?"
"You know… oh… what." Her breathing was ragged.
"Simply reassuring you, my beloved," and his own breath caught at that moment at the moment's perfection; the silken hair entwining his fingers, the slow movement of her body beneath his, which felt like Paradise regained; more importantly, that it was indeed her, at last, winding her arms around him, those eyes he had known so well half closed in the pleasure that he could give to her, was giving to her… A moment of perfection too great to be borne, so much so he gave up the rest of his reply, but lowered himself again to her mouth and gave himself up to her instead, again, again…
Some time later, when thought had slowly returned, he resumed his answer, laughing slightly at the aptness of it, "To reassure you, my love, that I do, indeed, want a 'next time'."
She languidly reached out to tap his broken nose in reproach. "I should scold you for that, Albus Dumbledore, but," she dropped her hand to rest against the soft leaves, "well, at this particular moment…" Her voice trailed off, and he took advantage of that to drop what was intended to be a quick kiss onto her lips; yet her mouth was so sweet, and her welcome so warm, that, though sated both, it was some time before either gained leave of the other to speak.
"At this particular moment," she resumed her train of thought as if she had never been interrupted, now curled into his warmth, "I don't seem to have the requisite energy to scold you." Her head rested comfortably on his shoulder, and he wondered how he had lived so many years without the feel of her warmth held within his arms.
"Really? That seems strange, considering only a few moments ago, you -"
"Be silent, Albus!"
He grinned – he could not seem to help it – and turned his head in order to see her answering smile, and – "Ow."
"What is it?" Sudden concern in her voice.
He did not answer, but instead waved his hand. Underneath his head suddenly there appeared a fat purple pillow.
"Damn."
His head now comfortable, he looked down on her, puzzled. She was eyeing the newly-created pillow with an expression of supreme disgust on her face.
"My dearest love, what is it?"
"Transfiguration," she replied flatly. "I was going to ask that next time, we remember to bring a pillow. It didn't even occur to me to Transfigure a plant into one!" She slapped one slender hand against his chest in pure frustration.
He threw back his head and simply howled with laughter, and, after a few minutes of glowering at him and muttering darkly, she could not help but begin chuckling herself. When he could breathe again he held her tightly against him and kissed her until both were dizzy with the intensity of it. "My beloved, my darling, my dearest Minerva. I would not lose you for the world."
And, after a while, she Transfigured his robe into a soft, warm blanket. Still holding each other they wrapped it around them both as they watched – together – the summer moon rise amidst the heady, everlasting scent of wild lavender.