I nodded curtly to her as I entered Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, "Misses Weasley." She winced.
I suppose she was surprised at how cold I was being. In my defense, though, I had every right. After all her promises, she never broke it off with Arthur.
Instead, she ran to him after we'd had a fight.
Instead, she married him and bore his children; not one, but seven.
Instead, she sent them all to Hogwarts to study under my tutelage and care, to live with me as their head of house.
She sent all seven of them to me, each one a painful reminder.
A reminder of her, of what we had… Of what I lost.
She regains her composure and smiles warmly at me as she closes the distance between us. "Hello, Minerva."
I can feel my icy exterior melt with just those two simple words and I want to close the remaining gap and pull her close to me. But I can't. Her husband is here, her children. I'm supposed to be their stern Transfiguration professor. I can't just melt into their mother's arms.
I breathe deeply, catching a faded wisp of the scent that I remember all too well: Lilacs and honeysuckle. I nod again curtly and walk away, desperate for a minute alone to calm myself, and my hormones.
I walk up the stairs and into a random bedroom to avoid her and sit on the bed.
"Pull yourself together, Min!" I scold myself, wringing my hands.
I hear the door to the bedroom open and close and know who it is without turning around to see; I can smell the faint but ever-present scent of lilacs and honeysuckle. Though, now that we're alone, I realize that she also smells faintly of a cleaning product.
"Minnie," she begins as I get up from the bed and walk towards her, "I think we need to talk. I have a lot of explaining to do. I feel just terrible about the way I left things with you! Can you find it in your heart to forgive me?" I nod somewhat reluctantly causing her to show such astounding elation. She swoops forward and gives me a peck on the cheek.
Even that little peck sends us both flying. Silencing charms and charms to ward off anyone attempting to enter the room are murmured.
Then hands grope though bulky robes as lips search to find any uncovered skin. Eventually we make it to the bed and our robes are strewn across the floor, forgotten in our haste.
After, as I breathe in her intoxicating scent, I hear her say she thinks that this was the perfect way to have finally ended us, the perfect way to say goodbye.
I can feel tears well up as I nod in agreement because I can't bear to tell her that this was the first time I had felt anything at all in years, let alone happy again.