A/N-
Here's another Songfic from the person who brought you The Dance. Of course, its another Garth Brooks, his
songs are so perfect for my fic's. See
if you can guess who the woman is. I
think I made it too easy, but even if you don't guess it ahead of time, I give
it away at the end, so don't feel too bad.
Anyway, here you go: That Summer, by Garth Brooks, as lived by (I'm not
gonna tell you :P). Read to find out,
review if you want to read more.
The man sat at the window of the
teachers lounge, staring out the window.
He absentmindedly brushed a string of hair from his face, staring at the
sun going down over the lake. He found
it hard to believe that he'd been a teacher here for ten years, at least. He'd lost track of time somewhere along the line. Thinking of how long he'd been the Potions
Master at Hogwarts brought back memories of his first year as a teacher. What a year that had been, he thought. Unforgettable.
I went to work with her that
summer
A teenage kid so far from
home
She was a lonely widow woman
Hell-bent to make it on her
own
We were a thousand miles
from nowhere
Wheat fields as far as I
could see
Both needing something from
each other
Not knowing yet what that
might be.
Like most of the other teachers, he'd spent the
summer at Hogwarts. Another year of
students gone, another yet to come. It
had been that way since he'd been there.
But God, nothing ever compared to that first year. He was young, barely an adult, just escaped
from Voldemort's power. Dumbledore had
offered him the job, and he'd taken it without hesitation.
Well, most of the year wasn't very exciting anyway,
he thought. He smiled, thinking how he'd
been just as scared as his first years were at the first day of classes. If it hadn't been for her, he probably would
have given up. Sure, they had only been
a few words of encouragement, but they'd helped, probably better than she'd
expected.
Such a tragedy she'd suffered, losing a husband,
after barely being married a year. She
still went by her maiden name, as she had when she'd been his own teacher. He couldn't imagine calling her anything
else. Of course, he also couldn't have
imagined what would happen that first summer.
She was definitely older than he, but at the time, he hadn't seen that;
he hadn't cared. He could see the beauty
inside her, just as she could look past his faults and mistakes.
"Amazing."
He mumbled to himself. "How quickly your attitude towards someone can change in
just an instant."
'Til she came to me one
evening
Hot cup of coffee and a
smile
In a dress that I was
certain
She hadn't worn in quite a
while
He'd been sitting in the teachers
lounge that day. The students had just
left the school for the summer holidays, and he was preparing next years lesson
plan. No point in putting it off, he
figured. Not like there was much else to
do anyway. He'd hardly noticed when the
door opened and she walked in, in Muggle clothes for once. It was a very flattering dress she wore, one
not many women could have pulled off.
She sat down in the chair next to him, quietly sipping her coffee.
"Next
term's lesson plan already?" she asked, glancing at what he was working on.
"I
figured I might as well do it now. While
what they've learned so far is still fresh in my mind. That way, if I suffer from amnesia tomorrow,
I won't have to worry about what the lessons will be. Just remembering how to make the potions." He
smiled.
"Good
idea." She laughed. "You have quite a sense of humor Severus. I'd begun to wonder if you'd had it surgically
removed."
"Well,
I tried, but it keeps finding its way back to me." He smiled, putting away the
lesson plans.
"Perhaps
there's a potion or something to keep it away?" She smiled.
"A
Humor repellant? Not that I know of, but
perhaps I'll make one." He mused. She
laughed again.
There was a difference in
her laughter
There was a softness in her
eyes
And on the air there was a
hunger
Even a boy could recognize.
"Well,
if you're bored with making your lesson plans, perhaps you'd care to join
me? I was thinking of going for a broom
ride, perhaps to those fields beyond the forest." She suggested. He stared at her eyes. They seemed so soft and alive in the
flickering firelight. Something inside
him told him to go with her.
"That
does sound like more fun than lesson plans." He admitted with a smile, offering
his hand to help her up. "Just let me go find my broom."
She had a need to feel the
thunder
To chase the lightning from
the sky
To watch a storm with all
its wonder
Raging in her lover's eyes
She had to ride the heat of
passion
Like a comet burning bright
Rushing headlong in the wind
Now where only dreams have
been
Burning both ends of the
night.
"Let's
rest a while." She suggested, landing her broom in the field. "We've walked
quite a ways, and my poor old bones need a rest."
"You
aren't that old." He told her, landing and sitting down next to her. The tall grain rose above their heads.
"I'm
old enough."
"Not
to me you aren't." Why did I just say that, he wondered. But he didn't have time to ponder it. She'd already placed her lips on his. Something about it felt so perfect. She pulled him down to her, wrapping her arms
around him.
That summer wind was all
around me
Nothing between us but the
night
When I told her that I'd
never
She softly whispered "that's
alright"
Her words made him forget how
nervous he was, it made him forget everything.
Her scent filled the air, like a perfume upon the wind, carrying him
away. Everything about her seemed
beautiful. Her hair, her skin, her
eyes. Her hand ran softly over his
shoulder. He pulled her to him again, as
if afraid she must vanish.
And then I watched her hands
of leather
Turn to velvet in a touch
There's never been a summer
When I have ever learned so
much.
We had a need to feel the
thunder
To chase the lightning from
the sky
To watch a storm with all
its wonder
Raging in her lover's eyes
She had to ride the heat of
passion
Like a comet burning bright
Rushing headlong in the wind
Now where only dreams have
been
Burning both ends of the night.
He stood and walked out of the room.
Something inside was telling him to go for a walk. His heart hurt, as it always did when he
thought back to that night. He was so
deep in his thoughts that he hardly noticed where he was walking. Before he knew it, he was riding a broom out
across the grounds, and he found himself hovering above that same wheat
field.
I often think about that
summer
The sweat, the moonlight and
the lace
And I have rarely held
another
When I haven't seen her face
And every time I pass a
wheat field
And watch it dancing with
the wind
Although I know it isn't
real
I swear inside I feel
Her hungry arms again.
He could still remember every
detail, every sense, every touch from that night. Not a day went by when he didn't think of
her. How could he not? They still worked together. He saw her every day. I wonder, he thought, does she still think of
that night?
"Why?"
he wondered aloud. "Because of the difference in our age, that's why it
couldn't be. Because of a rivalry as old
as Hogwarts. But she was right. We weren't meant for each other. Not as if it would have gone over real well
with the students, even though we both knew the other didn't care what people
thought."
He smiled. He
would have loved to see the looks on people's faces if they'd stayed
together. What an uproar that would have
caused. Severus Snape and Minerva
McGonnagall. Head of Slytherin and Head
of Gryffindor. Two Houses that had hated
each other since the original founders.
She had a need to feel the
thunder
To chase the lightning from
the sky
To watch a storm with all
its wonder
Raging in her lover's eyes
She had to ride the heat of
passion
Like a comet burning bright
Rushing headlong in the wind
Now where only dreams have
been
Burning both ends of the
night.
Rushing head long in the
wind
Now where only dreams have
been
Burnin' both ends of the
night
"I still love you Minerva."
