Compelled to Questioning Thoughts
Albus had long ago stopped considering himself eligible to have a normal life with a beloved companion and a family to call his own. His powers and abilities had seen fit to place him outside of that ordinary realm. You have been blessed with great power.
His father's wise counsel echoed in his mind. There will be much struggle within you to use or misuse it. Live with honor and the struggles will be few.
Lifelong, he strived to follow it to the letter as best he could. He lived his life as it would have been expected of him - honestly, honorably and with dignity until yesterday, last night. Honor was conveniently forgotten as he had impulsively made his interest known to a woman belonging to another.
I am attracted to you, Minerva McGonagall.
Once the words were let out he could not undo them. The attraction was not rooted in physical lust though there was a fair amount of that. Against all probability, Minerva had triggered something in him that no woman ever had. She fascinated him. Her mind, her wit, her views on things everything about her intrigued him. There was an inner strength to her that overshadowed her beguiling exterior. It was that strength of mind and spirit that touched him so. Even his dreams had been lured away from the commonplace to visions of the two of them entangled, sharing intimacies that left his body aching in the morning.
Albus groaned out loud. She is not free. It is base to feel this way but I am compelled just the same.
This was not the kind of problem he had been expecting to have on this trip. His most pressing duty was to have been convincing himself that Minerva was right for the teaching position. Instead, he found himself becoming enamored with the woman herself. This was no mere infatuation to be acknowledged then readily forgotten once circumstances had changed. Knowing what he knew and believing in what he did made his shame that much more acute.
For once I indulged my dream but dreams are not always good or possible. It will subside once there is some distance between us. It should. Her course lies with someone else. There is no place for this, for her in my life.
Those last thoughts brought his mind back to his mission and Hogwarts. The owl had awoken him just before sunrise with a letter from the headmaster. He remembered the words clearly.
Albus,
Any progress? Duval has been intolerably cheeky. He has invited ME to Beauxbaton for Christmas feast ostensibly to meet Miss McGonagall at that time after she is on his staff. I want nothing more than to reply to him that no such thing will ever come to pass.
I urge you to do all you can so THAT eventuality does not occur. I give you full authority. Do whatever you must. Whatever she wants, give it to her.
Armando
Albus sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He rocked back and forth for a time. His thoughts were disorganized and desperate.
What about what I want, Armando? You were impressed with her sight unseen while I ... I grow more enchanted with every word and glance. My very thoughts do not stray too far from her.
His thoughts drove him to activity. He lit the lantern atop his desk. Armando's parchment lay where he had left it. He paced in his tent with hands clasped behind him.
I will do my duty as I must but there is so much more I need. I do not have the right but do I dare reach for it? I did last night and yet she did not rebuff me. Does that mean there is a chance?
There was another who was thinking of the same events in another tent not too far away. Minerva lay back in her bed listening to the night sounds of the desert. Even in the desert the night air could be chilly. But that was not the reason Minerva shivered under her blanket. The reason for that reaction went by the name of Albus Dumbledore.
She closed her eyes and tried to clear her mind but her efforts were in vain. His face kept appearing in her mind's eye. His voice drifted through her consciousness calming her anxieties yet at the same time rousing within her inner self thoughts that were better left unheeded.
I am attracted to you, Minerva McGonagall.
She had felt paralyzed and uplifted all at the same time. Was it the way he had said the words, the warmth of his hand or the look in his eyes when he spoke to her thus? She should have pulled away, discouraged him soundly. He had been forward and bold, true, but still he had kept his honor and hers. We did nothing wrong. How can honesty be wrong?
Her thoughts returned to their walk. Upon exiting the meal tent, Albus had offered her his arm and she had taken it without the slightest hesitation. She had his arm but still she dared not meet his eyes. It was too soon after his admission and a strange tension hung like a shroud about them. They walked a few steps in silence until Albus stopped.
He faced her. In the dim light of the lit torches scattered about the camp, she could see him studying her face intently. "I see that you are still ill at ease."
"Is that what you think?"
"It is what I can sense."
"I'm not used to such ... such honesty, Albus."
"That men would say you are beautiful or that an old man such as I would dare to see you that way?"
"Not that sort of honesty." Minerva took a deep breath. "Albus, you are unlike any man I have ever met. You don't cover your real self with titles of office or hide behind a wall of achievements. You are simply you."
"I find that being myself is the simplest way to live my life." Albus answered. "To thine own self be true."
"And that includes being so ... so open with women?"
"Hardly. With you it came too easily. Thank you for humoring an old man's fancy."
"Old? You are the youngest emissary so far. Professor Emil from Beauxbaton had to be over a hundred and forty."
"I am one hundred fifteen, Minerva."
"Are you?" Minerva reached up a hand to his cheek. "You carry your age well."
The rest of the walk was made in companionable silence. Shortly, they had reached her own tent. "Have a good night, Albus."
Albus took her hand and raised it to his lips for a light kiss. "Shall we discuss Hogwarts in the morning if time permits, my dear?"
"I'd like that. Pleasant dreams, Albus."
Piers had not come to her last night. Perhaps if he had her dreaming would have been of him. But now as she lay wide awake staring at the tent's ceiling, her thoughts were in turmoil, her body restless.
I should have been more firm and discouraged him severely. A passing fancy, nothing more than that.