PART II
Chapter One: Forward
Look at her. Look those lips that suddenly seemed to have color upon them. And that pale skin and dark hair. Look at those big green eyes: they said everything there was to say and Albus was listening with open ears.
He had done better before to hide himself, to stay his position. But before…before the end seemed so far away. He was promised time with her and then it was taken away. Who was responsible for that? Who deigned that progress would be the end of it? Something snapped in him, something broke and he felt it curling in his throat. It couldn't end there.
He kissed her the first time, but her hand upon his face told him that she would lead the second. He let her guide his head towards hers, but he welcomed the surprising lack of restraint that she showed, despite the open door. It was Minerva who wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed herself against him. It was Minerva who parted their lips and let out a satisfied moan first. And it was Minerva who leaned against the desk, not quite sitting, but with legs parted ever-so-slightly.
He let out his own pleased sigh as his erection buried itself against the fabric between her thighs, his hands clenching tightly against the small of her back.
She pulled away from his mouth, if only to catch her breath with a gratified smile. Her eyes drifted down to look at their meeting hips and then back up again. The girl let out a single sigh that had within it, its own single note of desire.
There was no denying, now, what he thought he knew before: if he lost control of the situation, they would both be in some very dangerous territory. Unfortunately, in that moment as he leaned forward once again if only to peck her dark lips, he didn't care. It was far more than sexual conquest, even sexual obsession, it was Minerva. There was no one like her.
Albus couldn't focus. There was not a moment that went by where he was not overcome with some flashback, some repeat of what had only happened yesterday. What had begun and ended in seconds seemed to grow longer and more important with every minute his mind chose to spend on the matter. He had truly never felt this way before. He had felt joy in his life, but never like this. Never hope, neither. What reason did he have to feel hope?
Maybe it was the way that she tried so hard to avoid his gaze. Minerva did many things well, but acting casual was not one of them. Not today, anyway. Even if she was good at it, the man reasoned, it would be evident that something was different. Happiness was not a thing one could hide, not when it had consumed an entire being.
How lively he had found himself feeling this morning, this afternoon, even this evening! It was not something that he could control, try as he might. So happy was he. Albus looked forward to seeing her, just seeing her. That thought is what kept his eyes alive.
But now that he was stealing every glance he could at the girl, he knew that there was no competition for a young woman who had never had to hide her happiness like that: her eyes were very green today, nice and bright; like spring itself. Merlin she looked…well, she looked beautiful today.
—"this Saturday?"
The man blinked and his head snapped upward to look at Armando who was oblivious to the thoughts in his head. Albus cleared his throat, "Saturday?"
"Yes," the Headmaster clicked his tongue, "The seventeenth, is that correct?"
The transfiguration professor rattled his brain as quickly as it would be shaken, searching for the question that Armando was clearly not willing to repeat. What was this Saturday? Not a quidditch match. Not a Hogsmeade trip. What had they…? The man spoke calmly, "Yes, we agreed the sooner the better. Just after breakfast on the seventeenth. It's all been arranged"
Armando looked around the room at each Head of House, "Have you all looked at the routes chosen for you?"
The staff nodded.
"Excellent," the Headmaster nodded with a sigh. "Each of you were given a ground plan for the school, now is the time to share it with your student staff members. After you've finished, you may dismiss them. Students, if you could all go to your respective Head of House. The rest of the staff, come to me and I will assign you stations for the drill."
Albus stayed in his seat as chairs were shifted and an all-around general chaos filled the room. He forced himself to focus on the map before him. They would be going this way and then that way and then that, he thought as his finger trailed over the map. No doubt the students already knew where the one-eyed witch was. Maybe they already knew their way to Honeydukes. He hoped they did, though in this particular case, ignorance was not bliss. They would learn.
Although his eyes were not wandering, the rest of him seemed to sense the girl that chose to sit beside him. His body tightened involuntarily. The man inhaled deeply the simple scent that was lavender soap and was all but transported back to yesterday. He closed his eyes for an extended blink:
She pecked him back with a grin, accepting of the way that kiss was petering itself out. Her breath was still heavy, her body still shaking, but she lessened her grip upon his neck and slid forward so her feet were firmly planted on the ground.
Albus ran a thumb along her rosy cheek, his own face showing nothing other than adoration. "Perhaps we had better discuss this in my study."
Minerva gave a slow nod and whispered softly, "Perhaps we had."
And he took her hand.
"You will all notice," he cleared his throat uncomfortably as he pointed at the map, "that this is Gryffindor Tower. Obviously, we cannot assume that all students will be here at any given time, but at least one of you should be in case there is a real attack." He lifted his head and looked at his prefects and then Minerva who gave a nod.
"Would you like me to create some sort of schedule?" the Head Girl asked.
Albus gave a nod, willing himself to stay focused. "I imagine that is something you and Mr. Featherwaite will want to create together within the next few days for all of the houses. Until then, perhaps we just consider that whoever is on duty during the week-ends will need to stay close to their dormitories."
"And during the week?" she asked casually.
He looked over at her, knowing that this was not as innocent a question as the rest of the room would have thought. "I think it is asking too much for all staff members to change their schedules when there is no real evidence of a threat. Precautions like this should not disrupt life. That will only instill fear."
Minerva nodded slowly, "A week-end schedule it shall be, Professor."
"Now," the man looked back down at the map before him, "the route from Gryffindor tower." He placed his finger on the map in an effort to focus. "You will be leading all students from the dormitory (and those you find along the way) down these floors and then take this left. Not all of the houses will be evacuated this direction. Do be aware of the chaos that will ensue. You will take this corner and then the next," he pointed as his finger dragged along the map, "until you come across a statue that is right here. Are you all familiar with the one-eyed witch?" He looked up. All gave a nod. "Excellent. You will find that she leads to a passageway underground that lets out at Honeydukes. You are to stay in the tunnels on the Hogsmeade side until someone comes to get you. That includes during the drill as well as if an attack should ever really happen. Do not seek out the enemy."
"I see your study is not ready yet," the girl said softly as she stood on the landing of the new room.
He licked his lips, feasting his eyes upon the nothingness before him. "I hadn't anticipated needing it so soon." Albus looked beside him to Minerva who didn't seem to mind, at least not if smiles were still a sign of contentedness. A matching grin shifted across his face, "Perhaps we will just lean against a wall for now, if we feel the need to sit."
"Standing, sitting, whichever you prefer."
He was amused by this statement—Minerva always knew what she wanted to do and more often than not did it. She was being nice, certainly, but more than that, she wanted him to lead. A sort of standoffishness or at least reluctance seemed to fall upon the girl as they stood there on the steps of his study. He found it strangely attractive—Minerva did not know what was next and made no effort to feign she did.
Of course that meant that he would be making the next move.
Albus swallowed, not bothering to take his eyes off of the beautiful creature, "Standing then, I think."
She raised an eyebrow and motioned behind her ever-so-gently, "Would you like to go and close your office door?"
Albus blinked. He had nearly almost forgotten. No one would hear them in his study, even if someone did go into his office (thanks to some simple charms), but going back and closing the door would make all of this seem safer. The man gave a nod, "I would. Thank you."
"You all," Albus cleared his throat in an effort to fight the images, "will be receiving your own version of this map by post tomorrow for the edification of the students that you will be leading. And of course," he raised an eyebrow at those surrounding him, "so that you may study in preparation. Questions?" He looked from one student to the next. When there was no response, he gave a nod, "Then you are all dismissed. If a question does arise, do feel free to stop by my classroom and office."
With that, they stood up.
There were never questions from the headstrong prefects and Minerva would have hers later. Even if he weren't expecting to see her, she would be finding him. The girl knew well where his office was. She perhaps was made Head Girl for that simple reason: she certainly had an awareness about her as to when it was and wasn't appropriate to come to a professor for help or to offer information. Perhaps it came down to discretion: she was trustworthy as a liaison between student and staff.
Albus tried hard not to be too obvious as he watched the girl leave with all her grace, but as she slid her closed ink bottle back into her bag, she looked beside her at the man and gave the smallest of nods. He needed that acknowledgement, he realized. It's what he had been waiting for all day. Just to share a glance with her and only her.
Could he wait until tomorrow evening to talk with Minerva? He would have to, wouldn't he? Or at least in the afternoon after class. Damn.
He watched her from the landing as she thumbed through the small library. She wasted no time in finding something to occupy herself as he shut and locked his office door. She was not one to wait. Albus did not mind so much that curiosity got the better of her. It made him smile, even, to draw that comparison between this girl and a cat.
The room was calm, almost cheery in the way that fire-lit studies were. He loved the way that the light danced upon her features as she turned to look at him with her lips dark and eyes bright.
"We don't have to tell him," Minerva said gently as her fingers trailed over the books upon the shelves, her back to him if only for a moment. "I don't look forward to being one of his prizes that he's done nothing to earn."
It was no secret between he and Minerva that he did not care for Armando—that was something she registered much too early in their personal talks. Perhaps he had been too transparent. But it made no difference, now. It was true. Armando would be using her like that. But that had been the Headmaster's plan the entire time, hadn't it? If it wasn't, then there was no reason to force Albus to watch over her lessons in the first place.
Ultimately, both of them knew that Armando would be getting his way. Would it be worth it to prolong the inevitable? It only took him a look at the girl's profile for Albus to know what he wanted, but perhaps he knew better. Armando could turn a blind (or ignorant) eye to Albus building a new office and study, but an affair was something completely different. An affair would impact the school and there was nothing that Armando cared for more.
"No," Albus shook his head softly, "and I don't look forward to witnessing it."
She turned gracefully, a small book in her hand, "We won't tell him, then?"
The man sighed. Merlin, he wished it were that simple. "He was here, Minerva, to see you nearly there. He will not believe it if it takes you months more. Even a week or two would astound him. Sometimes there is a penalty for being impressive," he tried to smile.
Minerva's fingers slid under the cover of the book even while she stared at him, otherwise unmoving from the base of the library. She knew well what he was trying to say. Her eyes softened and she clicked her tongue. Her tone was something new to him, though: "So I won't be seeing you anymore?"
Albus blinked. He never should have kissed her. "I suppose," he swallowed, seeing no means to the ending he wanted, "that would be," he looked around for a less painful word but found none, "best."
"Well, now that our students have left, does everyone feel confident with the plans for this week-end?"
The transfiguration professor looked across the table at Armando.
The room had cleared. Only five of them left. How had that happened? What was happening? Meeting. Yes. Meeting.
Albus cleared his throat and stated quickly, "I do."
The other three Heads of Houses responded in the affirmative as well.
"Wonderful," Armando nodded his head pleasantly and looked up at Albus, as if he could read his mind, "Miss McGonagall will be on duty in Gryffindor Tower," he looked to Cora, "Mr. Featherwaite in Ravenclaw Tower," he turned to Rudy, "Miss Lemke in the Slytherin dungeons, and," he turned to Thurston, "Mr. Morris for Huffelpuff basement. Excellent! Now, the four of you will be gathering as many stragglers as you are able before meeting your respective houses. Albus, I want you in the courtyard"—
Albus nodded and then promptly chose to drift off again.
He watched with a breaking heart as she bit her lip and looked into the book, clearly avoiding his gaze.
She did not move and neither did he.
They both knew it was a bad idea. He would not have chosen Minerva if he thought she could not see that. But as she had pointed out not too long ago, emotions did not see reason. And he loved her. And she maybe loved him. Was there a way to make this less painful…?
The man swallowed a hard swallow as he caught glimpse of the book she held in her hand. Merlin. Was there no way to escape this haunting? He closed his eyes tight and clicked his tongue. That's right: he was to be preparing. It was his prerogative to be studying ancient curses and jinxes, to knowing everything there was to know about inferi. Instead, he was fighting a shrinking airway across the room from a girl he had no business liking.
Albus added, unsure of what else to say to justify this build-up and let-down, "It wouldn't do, would it? People do things they wouldn't normally do in times of war. Maybe it's best we just blame all of this," his voice began petering out as she looked up at him with soft eyes, "on the war…"
The girl blinked, her long eyelashes catching the firelight, and shook her head. "Do you believe that's what this is?"
The man swallowed, "There are things, Minerva, that you cannot understand, things to do with this war. It has nothing to do with your age…" he looked around his empty study for the words, "but we—" his eyes stared at the copy of Tales of Beedle the Bard in her hand, "—I think, perhaps—"
"—No. I will not accept that," the girl looked upon him with austerity in her glossy eyes. "The war has nothing to do with whatever this is."
If she only knew. Without the war, he never would have sought her comfort. Without the war, she may never have even thought of being an animagus. Without the war, nothing would have ever changed. But perhaps her point was the right one: as far as she saw it, he was using it as a scapegoat for what had just happened. He owed her more than that.
The man walked down to the floor and took a seat on the hard stone floor against the cold stone wall beneath the window. He stared straight ahead, not at the girl.
Yes, Albus was very aware of the moment in which he chose to bring the room to silence. It was because he had nothing to say that was appropriate. He would not be arguing over the validity of his feelings or hers. The how and why didn't matter.
But he was moved by her adamancy.
He swallowed. No, it wouldn't be right the way that they would need to lie and sneak about to see each other as they had been. Even if it stayed in an innocent place, even if all they ever did was kiss, it would not go over well. And they would get caught. It was just the nature of these sorts of things. Did he care? He would be leaving at the end of the year and so would she. Was he willing to gamble the next eight months?
He looked over at the girl who had put the book down and was staring at him, waiting.
He couldn't do that to her. He would not allow his own selfishness to ruin her like that. They did not need each other, not yet. They would both survive without the other, hopeless as that thought may have sounded.
Albus blinked before speaking softly, "What shall we do? We will not be permitted to spend as much time together. Maybe it is best that you've completed your lessons. It will "— he hated himself for saying it, but he thought it to be true, the most logical of deterrents—"pass, perhaps. And then the both of us will have avoided what would have been inevitable."
"And what is that?" she whispered although there was no need to.
He glanced up at the girl whose vacant expression was her way of hiding emotion. A deep spasm of guilt seemed to flash against his gut. Damn it, there was nothing worse than emotions…especially love. "Well," he swallowed, "if by some miracle we were to carry on with some sort of relationship without being caught, you are graduating and I am leaving in June."
"So you would want to undo it all in summer once it would be acceptable for us to be together?"
Albus felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up. It was Rudy and he had a concerned expression upon his face. The man swallowed.
"Something wrong? You've been extra distant today."
"Oh," Albus shook his head gently and blinked the world back into focus, "no. Just lost in thought. Sorry."
"No, no," Rudy shook his head and shrugged, "just looking out for you. Are you certain there is nothing wrong?"
"Yes, is there something wrong?" Armando's voice crawled across the air in front of Albus' face.
The man turned to his other side where Armando was looming. How unceremonious of him, to just pop up right there!
Albus cleared his throat, "There are many things to think about. I can't seem to focus."
"Oh?" Armando raised an eyebrow.
Quickly, Albus searched for topics worth mentioning. He spoke somberly, "Of course. The drill. The executions on the front. Classes. More friends dying. All of this. Just seems like too much right now," he nodded gently.
Armando clapped Albus on the shoulder, "You will have your chance soon enough. In the meantime, I need your mind to stay here. Go on. Get some sleep."
Albus took his opportunity to stand up and collect his things. He didn't pay any attention to where Rudy went as he bolted out the door and into the corridor. He had his own thoughts that were more important. He let himself be consumed by the memory as he sped towards his rooms.
Coming from her mouth, it sounded worse than it was. But then again, she did not (and would not) understand what this war was to him. He would be sparing her, really. He would be sparing her even more if he had just never kissed her. Merlin, what had he started? There was no going back.
He looked for another excuse, another valid and vague one.
"Minerva, it's asking too much, really, of both of us to think that this could work. Relationships are difficult enough as is."
There was a long silence. Longer than he was comfortable with, certainly, but it was the stillness which frightened him. The girl across from him made no move, hardly even a blink— that is until she swallowed and nodded. When she finally did speak, her voice seemed strangely devoid of emotion, of aim. She spoke as if she were stating a fact that could not be argued and that was what really got him.
"You're my best friend. My only friend, really; at least the only one I care for," she said.
It was that moment in which his heart broke.
Albus swallowed. True to form, Minerva McGonagall seemed to know exactly what to say, and her opinion was very much shared by him. How to end a friendship when neither one wants out? Perhaps there was no way. Perhaps the only way was forward. He quickly ran the thousands of ways that it could go wrong: the expulsion, the loss of credibility, the blackmail. Would it be worth it, if it came to that?
He stared at the young woman and motioned for her to sit beside him which she did slowly for fear of what was to come next. His senses were overcome with her presence, whether or not he wished it. He smelled only lavender. He heard only her soft breaths. He felt only her body heat. He saw only her face. Merlin, he wanted to taste her lips again.
The man swallowed as he played tug-of-war with himself.
He could see it in her face. Minerva would not argue it—she would be upset, but she would accept it with grace and understanding if he said it was not meant to be. That was simply how she was. She led everything with her mind, her emotions seemed to always come second. She did understand the predicament that they were in…and she would abide by his decision, painful as it may be.
She turned her head and stared at him, her eyes large but dry. "I don't want to stop seeing you," she stated softly, "If we must tell the Headmaster, then I can come in to help you grade. He would believe it if I told him that I wanted to better understand what it is that you do. I may want to be a professor someday."
Minerva was lovely, wasn't she? She may have been the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, especially when she looked like that. Behind her eyes, he saw the fire, the emotion. That's what made them so green. She was doing well to keep herself composed, but he heard it in her breath, the panic. Albus admired this ability in her, although he knew well that once she committed to emoting her passion, anxiety, whatever it was, she did not turn back.
Perhaps that's how he knew that there was no chance of betrayal in the way that students sometimes turn upon their professors, or indeed that people turned upon their lovers. If he committed to her, then she would commit to him. She was loyal and strong. And he knew that she loved him, even if it was too early to make such pronouncements, he knew it. She knew the risks she was taking and she was doing it all the same for no reward other than his company. If she, Minerva McGonagall, was willing to lie and sneak around for him, that really meant something.
Albus swallowed and nodded reassuringly at the woman beside him.
He didn't care what the losses would be at the end of all of this. He was better off having this beautiful creature by his side than not. And something told him that she felt the same. She would not be fighting so hard if that were not the truth.
"We will not tell him that you have finished your lessons," Albus nodded decisively. "We will tell him that you've suffered another minor injury; a sprain, maybe a broken toe, something that you would not have gone to the infirmary for," he smiled softly at the girl as her eyes seemed to grow bright again, although she stayed silent. He nodded gently, "Supplies are low and neither of us thought it important enough to waste them. We are taking a day or two to study what you can improve upon. That will give us a week," he blinked, "maybe even two before he expects to see progress again."
Her eyes seemed to grow wider and something heavy seemed to fall off of her face: fear. "You…want to see me again on Friday?"
Albus nodded slowly with a small smirk, "Perhaps we can add furniture in this icebox of a study."
A smile fell over her face since they walked into his study together. The girl leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on his hairy cheek. She let out a sigh and nodded, "I look forward to it."
His hand reached out gently and pulled her head towards him again, a gesture to which she complied, her lips meeting his softly.
Albus turned the corner and stopped, blinking as a sly grin fell over his face. He cocked his head to the side as he stared at the tabby cat standing in the middle of the hall, just waiting there. The man said nothing, but walked to a known broom closet and opened the door.
The tabby followed him in.
As he shut the door behind him, he was pleased to see the shadow of Minerva upon the wall.
R&R SVP