I don't own anything, sadly, I hope you enjoy please r and r if you like!
Chapter One
As the organ played it's dreary tune and the mass of people clad in black filed into the tiny, cold chapel, Minerva stood rooted at the door. The coffin lay at the alter, decked in a mass of white Lily's, the gold framed black and white photograph stood at the foot of it. The candles burned around it, the incense filled the air with a vy, sweet scent that reminded her of death. Her hands were shaking, her eyes stinging with un-shed tears. She couldn't go in. To go in and sit through the service, just feet away from him would make it all too real. He would be so close yet she wouldn't be able to touch him. This would be the last room where they would be together, for once the priest had droned, she would following him to the pit and watch as the man she loved was lowered into the darkness.
"Are you ready to go in," Albus whispered softly, taking her gently by the elbow.
She shook her head.
"My dear, I'll be with you the whole way," he said." I won't leave your side."
She turned to him, her emerald eyes filled with grief. "You won't?"
"No," he smiled sadly. He would never leave the woman that he loved, not while she was in such anguish. She looked so small, so desolate with her thin shoulders stopped, her eyes wide and her face filled with heartbreak. He had never seen her look so vulnerable, not since... He shook his head, that was in another time, he shouldn't think about it.
He led her down the tiny aisle, between the teary congregation who dabbed at their faces with handkerchiefs and sat with her on the front pew. Throughout the service, her eyes remained fixed on the shining coffin, her hand rested on her pertruding stomach. He felt ashamed as all he could think about was how much he wished that child could be his.
The service ended and as the coffin bearers began to walk the coffin back out of the chapel, Albus rose, only to be pulled back down sharply by Minerva.
"I don't think if can go to this bit," she whispered. "I don't think I can watch-" her eyes were full of pleading, full of pleading for him to save her.
"Would you like to walk with me?"
She nodded, evidently relieved and took his arm as he lead her outside. They walked slowly along the gravel pathway, away from the crowd and the open grave.
"Do you think me horrid?" She asked. "Not watching my own husband being buried?"
"I think it makes it even more evident that you cared for him deeply," he replied.
"I love him," she corrected.
He nodded. He knew that, he just couldn't say it out loud. "If you didn't, you wouldn't have minded watching him being lowered in," he said.
"You always say the right things," she said. "Whenever you are near me, I feel at ease. This whole thing seems a little easier with you here."
"I'm glad," he said and he meant it. He wanted to be useful, he wanted to be needed, for as long as he was he would be able to be near her.
She squeezed his arm. "It's all over now. The sympathisers will vanish as quickly as they came and I will go home, to the home that I have built with him, and wander the empty rooms that are filled with our life together."
"Won't you come back to our world now?" He asked. "It's what you know, it's where you belong."
She shrugged. "Shouldn't his child grow up in the world that it's father knew?"
"It should grow up in a place where it's mother is happy. You cannot be happy here alone, this was all for him. Now you must do what you wish to do. Life goes on, Minerva."
"Does it?" She asked sadly. "Because I feel as if it never will."