10 - Thoughts

Elizabett sat in her quarters by the large inset window that overlooked the Forbidden Forest. It had been a busy day, but with the sun remaining longer in the sky and the air turning from a deep chill to a mere crisp, she was not as tired as she had been in past weeks.

Curling her feet under and leaning her head against the glass, she peacefully enjoyed the change of colours as the sun began to set behind the castle, darkness rising before her over the trees. Unconsciously, her fingers toyed with the small box on the ledge. Flipping the lid up, the melodic notes of the Emperor's Waltz filtered into the room. The music box had been a gift from Thomas on Valentine's Day.

They had met at Collingwoods the Saturday night after the storm, had enjoyed a wonderful dinner, and had danced until well after midnight. There was a slight tension in the air, but they laughed it off, claiming it was simply due to being overworked. It was very late when they walked to the Apparition point in London. Thomas gripped her hand firmly and made a bold suggestion that they go to Hyde Park to watch the sun rise. The wine throughout the evening had enhanced his amorous demeanour, and with the glint in his eye, it was obvious what was on his mind. Elizabett closed her eyes and sighed at the memory. She couldn't do it. She just couldn't bring herself to cross that line. To kiss, to embrace, yes, but to allow him to touch. She shuddered. Poor Thomas had become angry, his advances having been thwarted once again. His frustration was clear even though he tried to be understanding, but Elizabett knew her friend far too well. She knew that he was disappointed. He escorted her back to Hogsmeade, and they solemnly walked to the castle gate, neither saying very much. They had kissed "good night", but their hearts were heavy. Elizabett had placed her head on his chest in a caring embrace, and he had stroked her spine, his head resting on the top of hers. They both sighed sadly, and after Thomas left, Elizabett made her way to the main courtyard and sat on one of the many stone benches. The sky was clear, and the full moon shone brightly. As a child, she spoke to the Goddess regularly but had gotten out of the habit, as she grew older. She loved Thomas. She didn't want to hurt him. He was her closest friend. She couldn't understand why she hesitated in proceeding in their relationship.

The moon glowed, and a wisp of cloud passed over it, muting the bright light, drawing her attention to a small torch flickering at the highest point of the Astronomy Tower.

A loud knock sounded on her door startling Elizabett from her thoughts. Closing the lid of the music box, she awkwardly unfolded her legs and stretched, hobbling across the room. Swinging the door open, she was met with a broad, white grin from beneath a cropped, brown beard.

"You wanted to know when it was happening." Professor Kettleburn could barely contain himself. "Well, it's happening now." He fairly bounced on the spot.

"What's happening?" Elizabett fought to follow his line of thinking.

"The Bowtrickles!" the Care of Magical Creatures instructor announced excitedly. "They're coming out of hibernation. It's really something to see. There are a number of students and teachers heading in that direction now. Are you coming?"

"Absolutely!" Elizabett grinned as she Accio'd her cloak. This was something that she had been looking forward to. The forest truly became "alive" as the minute; stick-like creatures unhinged themselves from the trees to which they had attached themselves to in the autumn. In the dim light of dusk, they looked like fairies as they woke and leapt to the ground. Students had to be kept at a distance for they had a tendency to squeal, frightening the small creatures that had slept through the winter.

Following her colleague, the pair hurried to the Main Entrance to join the crowd heading to the forest. Professor Kettleburn shouted instructions to the group and gave Og the "okay" to lead the younger students out. Elizabett and several other teachers trailed behind to keep control of the stragglers.

"This is so exciting!" Professor Flaurance exclaimed as she pulled her cloak around her, dusting the dirt from her hands onto the grubby robe that she wore. "I was in the middle of transplanting some Mandrakes. They're mature now and needing a bit more room in their pots."

"Oh, good," Professor Slughorn boasted as he accompanied his colleagues. "Madam Prince has made a request for a potion requiring Mandrake root, and I could always use a supply for class. When can I pick them up?"

"By the end of the week, if you like," the Herbology professor agreed.

"Where's Albus tonight?" Professor Bagshot asked as she met the others at the door.

Slughorn huffed irritably. "He locked himself in the lab right after classes and hasn't come out since. Skipped dinner. Said he had an idea that needed to be investigated. Blast, I wish I knew what he was doing. I might be able to help, but he says that he has to "go it alone", whatever that means." He waved his hand in the air as if to shoo away flies. "And, I'd love to know where he goes when he leaves the castle. He always comes back so late, and then spends even more time either in the lab or in the Restricted Section of the library. It's getting worse," Slughorn complained.

Elizabett remembered the last time she had seen Albus. It had been last Saturday at the University of Edinburgh. Felix Mendelssohn's String Quartet No. Six was the feature piece, and Elizabett had been surprised to find him there. He was usually with his "friend" on Saturdays, but apparently she had given him the idea. He had never considered attending a Muggle production before but was always open to new experiences. He hoped that she didn't mind his intrusion. It was obvious by his attire that he didn't venture into the Muggle world often, and Elizabett tried to discretely point out that the bright yellow shirt and short, black trousers drew far too much negative attention. Pulling him into a secluded alcove, she suggested that he Transfigure the trousers to full length and change the colour of the shirt…maybe to a simple white. The string tie that he wore was changed to a classic, black, bow tie, and she folded his cloak over his left arm. Gently removing the braided string from his beard, she stood back to examine the transformation. Now, he could pass for a Muggle professor, she smiled satisfactorily.

Moving to the concert hall, they had found seats somewhere in the middle of the audience, and the two had enjoyed a lovely evening of classical music. Afterwards, they took a short stroll along Nicholson Square and stopped for a cup of tea at a local café before Apparating back to the boundary gate.

The walk back to the school had been pleasant, and although still hesitant on details, Albus spoke freely about his work both in class and in the lab. His friend, Nicholas, was an alchemist who was assisting him with his hobby. Curiosity had led him to try to find as many uses for a particular ingredient, that he would never name, and he was up to five. It was like a puzzle to him, and Elizabett could see the excited glint in his eyes whenever he spoke of it. She never pressed him for details but would occasionally make a comment or off-handed suggestion.

At the junction of corridors that led to their respective chambers, Albus smiled genially and gave a short, elegant bow as he said "good night". Elizabett smiled in return and could feel her cheeks heat, her heart starting to pound. Bidding her colleague "good night", she turned and made her way to her room. That night, her dreams had been short and incomplete. First, she was with Thomas at Castlewood Manor. He was playfully chasing her with a handful of frogs by the pond. Then, she was with Albus, drinking hot cocoa on a blanket under the ancient willow by Black Lake. Elizabett's cheeks involuntarily flushed.

"Are you all right, dear?" Professor Bagshot noticed. "Your mind seems to be elsewhere."

Elizabett twitched a shy smile. "I was just thinking," she said quietly as they reached the edge of the forest.

~~~***~~~

Albus sat in a far corner of the senior potions lab flipping through the vast number of alchemy books that lay before him, absently scribbling notes on the sheet of parchment precariously balanced on the counter top. His last meeting with Nicholas had been interesting. He had finished one round of experiments based in a common theory, and they had begun to toy with another hypothesis. Albus loved the mind play and the mental stimulation that Nicholas encouraged. Nicholas' wife would come into the library periodically and would chuckle at the two men as they bantered ideas about. They were so animate in their conversations. By the time Albus left, he had decided on a new direction, one that made him smile slightly as it had been inspired by Elizabett when she had injured her knee last month. He snapped a dusty, leather-bound tome closed and pushed it aside. He had managed to keep his distance from her since the night of the storm. She had looked so beautiful, even drenched, and making her happy had given him immense pleasure. The connection she had made with him through his hand had been unsettling, but at the same time, it warmed him, and he didn't know why. Come the end of the evening, he couldn't resist himself, and even though he knew that she was spoken for, he felt drawn to kiss her "good night", even if it was just a peck on the cheek.

Albus sighed and leaned back on the stool. Horace had been furious with him for spending time with her and hadn't spoken to him for two days. Albus' lips twitched upward slightly, the quietest two days he'd had in a while. He had even taken a solitary stroll to the Astronomy Tower on the night of Valentine's to do some stargazing.

From that night forward, Albus had managed to avoid close contact with Elizabett, only politely acknowledging her at meals or in the hallway as they passed. She appeared disappointed and had asked if everything was all right. He courteously explained that he had been busy, but when he overheard her tell Bathilda about the upcoming concert, he couldn't resist the opportunity. No one would see them. No one would know. It would be a perfect opportunity to spend a little time with her…alone.

Cancelling his evening with Nicholas, he had Apparated to a small square outside Alison House, which held the university's music department, and waited just inside the doorway for Elizabett to arrive. When he saw her enter, he made his way along the wall to a bulletin board, which displayed news items and upcoming events. Pretending to peruse the notices, he played innocent when she saw him there. His choice of Muggle clothing had not been the best, and she had been so sweet in helping correct his attire… and the way she had removed the string from his beard…she had been so gentle, her touch so delicate. He did not regret his decision.

Allowing her to choose their seats, he followed her to the middle of the audience. Sitting by her side, he could feel her leg occasionally brush against his, and it stirred him in a way that he hadn't felt in…he didn't know how long. After the concert, they had strolled to a small coffee shop and chatted over a cup of tea. He felt very comfortable in her presence. The walk up from Hogsmeade to the school had lulled him into a deeper sense of ease that he knew had been absent from his life. Opening himself to her, he talked about Nicholas and some of his research, things he hadn't done with anyone else, and at the junction of the corridors between the wizards' and witches' chambers, he fought himself, wanting to kiss her "good night". He knew that she belonged to someone else. Another man courted her, and he had no right to infringe on that, still, his attraction to Elizabett, however wrong it was, felt so very right.

It was late in the afternoon, right after last class, when Horace had nudged up to Albus in the hallway and suggested that they go to the forest that evening to watch the Bowtrickles come out of hibernation. Albus had considered it but declined, gathering his work and locking himself in the lab, claiming he had a new idea needing to be examined. However, it was the thought of seeing Elizabett again that drew him there. He didn't trust his reactions around her…not with so many others present, especially students. So, as the others anxiously experienced the forest coming to life, he sat, alone, in the dark, dingy dungeon lab, trying very hard to focus on the work that lay before him.

~~~***~~~

"You missed quite a sight last evening," Bathilda commented to Albus at breakfast the next morning. "Was your work really that important that you missed the Bowtrickles reawakening?"

He looked up to steadily gaze at his old neighbour. "I've seen it before," he replied evenly.

"True," she answered with an indifferent nod, "but Elizabett was there." She gave him a sideways glance to gage his response. For anyone else watching, they would not have noticed, but for someone who had known Albus for as long as she had, Bathilda saw the minute facial twitch that gave him away. "She's such a lovely young woman," she continued shrewdly. "Intelligent. Charming. A certain worldly innocence about her."

Albus snorted slightly as he set his tea down. "Worldly innocence? An oxymoron if there ever was."

"Well," Bathilda began, "she's been all over Europe studying Muggles and comparing us to them. She's cautious; yet, she retains a wide-eyed innocence of believing that anything is possible. I find it refreshing. She has such an open mind." Bathilda stirred a spoonful of brown sugar into her porridge.

Albus gave some thought to what was said, and jumped slightly when a hand was gently placed on his shoulder.

"Good morning, Albus," Elizabett greeted with a stunning smile as she brushed past him to take her seat. "We missed you last night." She paused to measure her next words. "Horace was in such a foul mood that you had locked yourself in the lab again. He just couldn't let it go," she teased, a mischievous twinkle glittering in her eye.

Bathilda nearly spat her porridge across the table at Elizabett's comment, struggling not to laugh out loud. She and Elizabett had spoken of Horace's protectiveness of Albus, and Bathilda had given her opinion quite clearly. Elizabett had chosen to mind her own business, but this was too much to pass up. She watched Albus' reaction and began to regret her decision. His face clouded over, and his jaw seemed to set. He stared at his plate, and finally pushed it away.

"Albus, I'm sorry," Elizabett quietly apologized as he abruptly rose. He turned to head down the stairs at the back of the High Table, and Elizabett made to follow. Instead of turning left to exit the Great Hall, he went straight and through a door that she hadn't been through before. "Albus," she called, catching up and reaching for his sleeve. "I am truly sorry. That was inconsiderate of me, and none of my concern. Please forgive me," she pleaded.

When the door closed, he turned to face her and took a pace closer. She stiffened, not knowing what to expect but not retreating. With deep blue eyes boring into pale, he steadily began, "Horace makes more of our…relationship…than there actually is. He has hopes and expectations that I have allowed him to anticipate but have no intention of carrying through on. He needs to be placated in order for me to continue to use the lab and his resources, but I'm growing tired of this ruse." He shook his head. "Has he ever approached you?"

"About what?" Elizabett asked in concern. Albus peered down his nose, giving her a knowing look. She bit her lower lip in a telltale sign, and Albus rolled his eyes with a sigh. She reached for his sleeve again, gently running her fingers down the fabric. "He's protective…and jealous. Apparently, he's seen how we are together, and he's warned me to stay away."

Albus gritted his teeth. "When?"

"Months ago," Elizabett replied. "As we were going home for the holidays. It's not important."

"Yes…it is." Albus inhaled slowly. "Be careful. I don't trust him."

As they stood in silence, Elizabett reached out, her right fingers lightly brushing the back of his left hand. He turned his palm up, and allowed her fingers to caress across the lines.

"Pain," she whispered closing her eyes. "You want something that you don't think you can have. It's in your heart." She opened her eyes and looked up at the man before her as he slowly withdrew his hand. "Oh, Albus. Don't be afraid to follow your heart. The pain that doesn't kill us can only make us stronger."

His lips twitched upward sadly as he fought the urge to run the back of his fingers across her cheek. "I can't," he whispered.