To my dear readers: I came up with this quite some time ago, but due to the lack of my postings, I decided to post it here. I hope you all enjoy! Skrewtkeeper
Love is Deceitful
I winced as the cold, winter wind hit me with full force. I shivered slightly and drew my cloak tighter around my waist; hoping to conserve some warmth. Snow was blowing past my glasses and right in my eyes. I pulled my wand out with shaking hands and tapped my slightly square spectacles to repel the snow. I could have easily warmed myself with my wand, but no. Suffering in this wind was what I needed to do. I hated myself for falling into that trap that I had sworn I wouldn't slip into, but as time wore on, I stumbled right into the snare that had been set over forty years previously. Now that he was dead, I couldn't stop hating myself.
Albus Dumbledore had died not by my hand, but by my actions. I felt indebted to him somehow, for I had not honored his wishes as I had promised. His wishes were to be buried here, at Hogwarts, and I had not given my input in to let him be rest here, where no other Headmaster had been lain before. His funeral was held here, nevertheless, it was exhibited that the Minister's wish for him to be laid with his departed family. I did not protest, for fighting with the ministry was to be "the last option", as Dumbledore himself had put it! I chose to not wage war about it, and let them seize Dumbledore's body willingly, even though the sight ripped my heart to pieces.
You may say that I had nothing to do with his death if I just allowed the ministry to take him away. I know. But I still felt as though the reason he would never come back to this school was because of me, and me alone. I had not spoken at his funeral, nor had even suggested unique words to put on his casket. His death almost killed me. Almost, but not quite. You see, I'm not exactly young myself, and when I heard about his abrupt and wrongful passing, I shut down completely. I couldn't eat, sleep, or talk to someone about how much pain his death brought me because I swore to him that I wouldn't tell anyone about the two of us; we were formally engaged. When I found that we weren't ever to be wed, that the love of my life was gone forever, I can say without shame that I wept. I wept for him, I wept for me, and I wept for our future in which we were never to withstand together.
Thankfully, I was over this phase, or was I? I still had dreams about him. One night, I dreamed that his death wasn't real, but when I awoke feeling the happiest I've ever felt, I had the horrible crashing realization that he was gone, and wouldn't ever come back. I still thought an awful lot about him, and in my sleepless nights, I saw him quite a bit, but, alas, he would never speak back to me as he once did. That just hurt me so much. I nearly died with emotional pain those first few weeks without him. Luckily, Madam Pomfrey was in on the secret and was able to make me eat when I wouldn't, and made me talk when I couldn't. I was now obligated to her for saving my miserable life, but repaying her, my best friend, would come in time, as I knew that healing from my loss would.
I pushed the door open to the Hog's Head; happy that no students were let in today. I couldn't bear to let someone that the 'Chosen One' knew to see me here, of all places! I had also given my word to poor Albus that I would help watch over his students that he cared so deeply about when he passed. He told me his worries about Snape and whether he would be able to handle the amount of stress (for it was Dumbledore's wish that he would be the next Headmaster) of being Head of Hogwarts. Now, I had given my word countless times to Dumbledore before. Not because I felt that as Deputy Headmistress I needed to. No, I did it because I loved him! I am Minerva McGonagall, and this is my story of why many call me so strict and hardhearted; not because I couldn't love, but because I had slipped into love grudgingly.