Part Ten
"Mister Dumbledore, it is an unparalleled delight to see you again!" Poppy said sincerely as she bowed to him.
"I must say that I feel quite the same," Albus returned, and offered his arm, "Pray, how was your holiday?"
"Splendid," Poppy smiled earnestly, "I spent all of my time with my family, and there was never a dull moment."
She continued to speak in such a light, carefree way, though, in truth, her heart was sick with worry. Poppy had spent a good deal of time with her family, which brought her upmost joy, but over the holidays they had had company, a young man by the name of Reginald Amberforth. He was of about thirty years in age, and it was well known in society that he was looking for someone pretty to marry. Poppy had got to know him quite more than she cared for. While around her family, he was polite, gentle, eloquent, and all together the exact sort of man that she would love to marry, he was completely different when they were alone.
Which was not often, for after there first few secluded encounters, Poppy began to avoid being left alone with him. She found him short-tempered and, to say the least, frightening. He got a look in his eyes that was so menacing and made her want to flee the spot as fast as she could. Etiquette prevented that, and she was forced to stay and make polite conversation. Reginald Amberforth was crass, vulgar, and, though not lacking scholarly intelligence, not very bright.
There had been one incident that had left her shaking for nearly an hour afterwards. Poppy had made a simple comment on her views in politics, which highly contradicted his own. He had thrown his brandy glass down on the floor, stormed over to her, put one hand on either arm of the chair she was sitting at, and yelled in her face for nearly ten minutes, before someone knocked timidly on the door and he straightened himself up. Poppy had promptly fled the scene to her chamber, and stayed their for the rest of the day, claiming she had a very bad headache and needed much bed rest.
Some of this showed on her face as they danced, and Albus finally inquired, "Is there something the matter, Miss Pomfrey? You look quite out of sorts."
"No," She shook her head, "Thank you for your kind inquiry. I caught a bit of a cold during the holiday and I fear that I am quite pale since."
Albus said no more. He thought that she had perhaps had something that disagreed with her for dinner, or that she was simply nervous about being with him (Albus could be so arrogant sometimes!) again, after a two-week hiatus from any sort of communication. He resigned to put those worries to rest, and immediately began formulating a plan in which he would woo her, escape Dominique Stairfawn, and relieve her from whatever troubled her all at once.
A week later, after an exhausting return to schoolwork, at the Saturday ball, Albus was nowhere to be seen. Rumor had it that he had been called away by his father to attend to family business in town, and would not be back for quite some time. Poppy did not dance at all that night, for she was nearly sick with worry over him. He had grown quite attached to her in the last week, always escorting her to her classes and to meals, and they spent much of their spare time together as well (though never without a chaperone). If he was to be late for their tea together, he would send a note, or if he was detained in class, he would send a note. Always, always, he sent a note, and now, nothing.
Of course part of her worry was out of arrogance. Any young girl feels that intoxicating mixture of pride and flattery within her stomach when a young man begins to pay overly adequate attention to her. When a girl realizes the power that she has over men with her own charms and beauty, she wants only for everyone to see her with that man and how much control she has. Of course, Poppy was not as bad as many, but she could not deny that she loved the looks on everyone's faces as Albus waited to escort her to luncheon or to their next class. She loved how he hovered around the doorway of the Great Hall in his ruffled shirt at the balls, so that the moment she walked in he could snatch her book and take all the best dances. But she cared for him greatly, more than most percieved, and his sudden disappearance frightened her.
Poppy left the ball early and returned to her dormitory to sleep fitfully for the next nine hours, until she rose at six, before the sun, feeling gloomy and out of sorts. The knock on her door, and the usual bouquet of flowers. The dormitory was now fairly overflowing with the dried buds, and it had become a great mystery for the entire school. Everyone wondered when the M.S. would reveal himself to her and they would officially begin courting. Poppy yawned and decided that an early-morning walk on the grounds was a good idea, for it would refresh her spirits, and she had not visited her favorite spot in quite a long time.
Her favorite spot was a private discovery of hers from her first year, when she spent much of her time wandering alone by herself. Over a knoll behind the castle, out of view of the Quidditch pitch, there began a little footpath, and it lead towards the Forbidden Forest. The forest itself was not so dark and gloomy over there, but full of tall pines. She had followed the path nervously, until it came to a small clearing with a small pond glistening in the afternoon sunlight. In summer, it was a lovely spot, full of flowers and butterflies and tall grasses bending slightly in the breeze. In winter, it was foggy and dark and frightening, and Poppy loved it.
She knew she was not the only one who knew of its existence, for she had often perceived that there was someone else there. Not watching her, but she thought that perhaps, they too, found it as comfortable as she did. There, she did not worry that her skirt was rumpled, and she never hesitated to let her hair loose or take of her shoes and dip them in the water. She suspected that they were only looking for leisure and tranquility, but she had never encountered them, only seen their shadow darting between trees.
Now, she pulled on her rose-colored dress with the white lace that she loved, and hastily pinned her hair up, not caring that it was a bit messy, for no one would see her. She slipped on her heavier boots (they would not show below her hem), and pulled her cloak over her shoulders, fastening it around her throat. Then, making sure that the other girls still slept peacefully, she blew out the candle she had lit, opened the door and stole out into the stone passageway. Up through the common room, where last night's embers glowed faintly, and out the door.
As she hurried through the halls of the school, she made careful not to make any noise of her feet upon the stone floor, or brush any statue with her cloak. No one was up. Everyone still slept peacefully in their beds, and she was alone. Out into the entrance hall, through the great doors, and down the steps. She went around the school, towards the back, glancing over her shoulder once or twice to see if anyone was watching her from the windows, but no one was in sight. They had been having a warmer winter, and there was very little snow, but lots of rain. The mist veiled her from anyone who might have been watching out the windows.
She found her footpath, though it was muddy, and hurried along it, almost running now, in her need for solitude. She passed through the first trees, and as they gradually got thicker, she slowed down. She could see it through the mist and the tall trunks. There it was, her lovely pond, though dark green now in the winter, with no butterflies and no sparkling sun, it was still a perfect place for her.
Poppy pulled the hood down off of her hair and slowly pulled the pins and combs out of the unruly mass, which had become even more so because of the damp weather. She was rather proud of her hair, in a modest way, for it was long and shiny, and she sometimes wished that etiquette did not require that she keep it up and out of her face, for she loved the thickness of it. However, any decent young woman would never be seen with her hair down in public, much less in the company of a gentleman.
Poppy pulled out her wand, intending to use it to rid a patch of grass of dampness so that she could sit and ponder, when she heard something move in the grass to her right. She gasped, and turned, her wand pointing out, though she could not see anything but indistinct shadows. Another movement. Poppy gripped the wand as tightly as she could, shaking in fear. There were footsteps, very definitely footsteps, coming straight towards her. A tall, bulky shadow...Poppy felt fear overcome her...It was nearly upon her and yet she could not speak to cast a curse upon it -
"Miss Pomfrey?" A startled voice said.
The bulky figure walked forward. It was a young man, in a dark cloak like her own...
"Mister Dumbledore!" She replied in a voice much more startled than his, yet laced with relief, "You gave me a fright!"
"What are you doing out of bounds, so early in the morning, and on your own?"
"I was just...Walking, I suppose, I come here often to relax and...What are you doing here? I thought you were in London on family business?"
"Is that what they told you?" Albus looked highly amused, "No. I was in London, and...Well, in a way it is family business, but that is not important. I am very surprised that you come here often, for I do, as well, but I have never seen you here before."
"Well, I do not parade around the fact that I am often out of bounds during school," Poppy pulled her cloak around her tighter, "I do so much enjoy being on my own in nature."
"It is not safe for you to be out on your own," Albus looked very solemn, "You should always bring a chaperone."
"Oh," Poppy looked defiantly at him, "And of course it is not at all dangerous for you to be out here on your own, is it?"
Albus' look changed to surprise, and then to amusement.
"Excuse me for my presumptuous behavior," He said, bowing a little.
Poppy felt very timid, so she took a step forward, and they walked silently around to the other side of the pond. Poppy was very surprised, indeed, to see a blanket spread out on the ground, as well as utensils, plates, glasses, and two wicker baskets. Poppy suddenly felt very bashful. Obviously, Albus was waiting for someone, and, in search of intimacy, had come here.
"Oh, I am dreadfully sorry," Poppy said, turning and facing him, "I see I have ruined your private...Gathering. I will go so as not to interrupt."
"Miss Pomfrey, you are a clever young lady, but so droll sometimes!" Albus said, laughing, "Do forgive me, but do you not realize that I had set this out and was just about to send a house elf to fetch you?"
Poppy stood, only amazed.
"Indeed, that is why I approached you so quickly, for I thought you were the house elf, and then you were there, without an escort and I thought..." Albus suddenly blushed, "Well...Will you join me?"
Poppy recovered herself quickly, "Yes, of course, though...We should have an escort, for it is not proper."
"Do you really want an escort, Miss Pomfrey?" Albus' voice was very low indeed.
Poppy was about to answer yes, but checked herself. It was very nice to be away from the hustle and bustle of the school, though they were quite alone, and it was very improper to be such without someone to watch them. Yet again, she trusted Albus, she did not think he was the sort of young man who would do anything indecent.
So she smiled, and said, "I think we are quite all right by ourselves. After all, we are both
very smart, and I have my wand."
"As do I," Albus pulled open one side of his jacket to show her, "Let us sit."
They went to the blanket and sat slowly. Albus began pulling out toast, bacon, and eggs (all kept warm with a simple charm), and setting them out before her. There was also a steaming pot of tea and very fine china tea cups and saucers, sugar, and orange marmalade. Last but not least, Albus pulled out a little jar of dried cherries.
"This was my business in London last night," He said, showing her the jar, and then opening it with a little pop, "I thought you might like something special."
"How did you know that...That dried cherries..." Poppy could not find the words, and only smiled, "You are too kind, Mister Dumbledore."
They began to eat, and the white sun slowly rose, though it mattered little, for its light did not add much, and the mist remained. The whole time, they made small talk, and suffered through some very awkward pauses. Poppy thought that, several times, Albus was on the point of saying something of importance, but he never got it out. Poppy dearly wished that she could bring about a more intimate subject than the weather or their latest Herbology lesson, but she was too shy to do such a thing. However, fate grew bored with their conversation, and so ordered a bit of embarrassment to cure them of their prudence.
Poppy was helping Albus pack up the things when they were done eating, leaving only their tea and the jar of dried cherries, which they had saved for last, and was having a bit of trouble fastening the basket. She pulled it a bit closer to her, and a dark lock of hair fell over her eyes. Immediately, she stopped moving, except to slowly reach up and lightly touch her hair, realizing that, the entire time she had been in this secluded setting, alone with a young man, her hair had been down, and she was scandalized.
"Are you all right?" Albus asked, noticing her sudden panic, "Is something amiss?"
"I...I...My hair!" She fumbled in her pockets for her pins, and clumsily tried to pin it up again, only to drop the pin and lose it in the grass, her cheeks growing hotter with every second.
"Miss Pomfrey," Albus said, and then, putting his hand on her wrist, "Poppy."
She looked up, and was now a frightful shade of maroon at his addressing her by only her Christian name. Her first thought was to slap him for his insolence. She had not given him any permission, and they were not courting, and here he was, in all his high and mighty Albus Dumbledore-ness, calling her by her Christian name -
"You look fine with your hair down, though it is a bit unruly," He playfully pulled at one corkscrew, "Truly beautiful, in fact, for you are not all fussy and proper as you are in school."
If it was possible, Poppy turned even darker (it was possible, but do not try it, it is very unhealthy). But she slowly slipped her pins back into her pocket, and her color returned to normal, though her cheeks were still very pink, mostly from the chill. She sipped tea without speaking, still apparently very mortified, and Albus did not try to make her, for fear of upsetting her.
In the same low voice in which he had asked her if she wanted a chaperone, Albus finally began speaking again, "I think you know the reason I have brought you here."
Poppy set down her cup with a small clink.
"I, for the longest time, have believed this world to lack any decent young women who are not just handsome, for there are plenty of those around, but also clever and witty. It was quite a desperate time for me, for my parents were, and still are, pushing me to marry this disgustingly uneducated girl that I despise. However, I now find that I was mistaken."
Poppy didn't say anything, only looked up at him earnestly, her gray eyes wide and a half-smile on her face.
"I should like very much to tell you exactly of my intentions, and they are simply this : I should like to court you, in a manner which is civil, yet not lacking of any intimacy. I hope this courtship would lead to a very intimate relation, but that is far in the future and we are only at the beginning. I would have written a letter, however, I felt that lacked sincerity and that I would never get an answer. So, now, may I have an answer?"
Poppy smiled more widely, blinked once, and said, "Yes."
Whatever the sun lacked, Albus made up for when she said that, for it was as though a light had pierced a shell around him and broken forth with his brilliant smile, and his sparkling, sky-blue eyes. He looked as though he would kiss her right there, but, instead, took her hand, kissed it gently, and then held it in his own. They sat and simply looked at each other, both radiating happiness, until a nervous house elf found them and insisted that they return to the castle, as it was time for their luncheon.
"Mister Dumbledore, it is an unparalleled delight to see you again!" Poppy said sincerely as she bowed to him.
"I must say that I feel quite the same," Albus returned, and offered his arm, "Pray, how was your holiday?"
"Splendid," Poppy smiled earnestly, "I spent all of my time with my family, and there was never a dull moment."
She continued to speak in such a light, carefree way, though, in truth, her heart was sick with worry. Poppy had spent a good deal of time with her family, which brought her upmost joy, but over the holidays they had had company, a young man by the name of Reginald Amberforth. He was of about thirty years in age, and it was well known in society that he was looking for someone pretty to marry. Poppy had got to know him quite more than she cared for. While around her family, he was polite, gentle, eloquent, and all together the exact sort of man that she would love to marry, he was completely different when they were alone.
Which was not often, for after there first few secluded encounters, Poppy began to avoid being left alone with him. She found him short-tempered and, to say the least, frightening. He got a look in his eyes that was so menacing and made her want to flee the spot as fast as she could. Etiquette prevented that, and she was forced to stay and make polite conversation. Reginald Amberforth was crass, vulgar, and, though not lacking scholarly intelligence, not very bright.
There had been one incident that had left her shaking for nearly an hour afterwards. Poppy had made a simple comment on her views in politics, which highly contradicted his own. He had thrown his brandy glass down on the floor, stormed over to her, put one hand on either arm of the chair she was sitting at, and yelled in her face for nearly ten minutes, before someone knocked timidly on the door and he straightened himself up. Poppy had promptly fled the scene to her chamber, and stayed their for the rest of the day, claiming she had a very bad headache and needed much bed rest.
Some of this showed on her face as they danced, and Albus finally inquired, "Is there something the matter, Miss Pomfrey? You look quite out of sorts."
"No," She shook her head, "Thank you for your kind inquiry. I caught a bit of a cold during the holiday and I fear that I am quite pale since."
Albus said no more. He thought that she had perhaps had something that disagreed with her for dinner, or that she was simply nervous about being with him (Albus could be so arrogant sometimes!) again, after a two-week hiatus from any sort of communication. He resigned to put those worries to rest, and immediately began formulating a plan in which he would woo her, escape Dominique Stairfawn, and relieve her from whatever troubled her all at once.
A week later, after an exhausting return to schoolwork, at the Saturday ball, Albus was nowhere to be seen. Rumor had it that he had been called away by his father to attend to family business in town, and would not be back for quite some time. Poppy did not dance at all that night, for she was nearly sick with worry over him. He had grown quite attached to her in the last week, always escorting her to her classes and to meals, and they spent much of their spare time together as well (though never without a chaperone). If he was to be late for their tea together, he would send a note, or if he was detained in class, he would send a note. Always, always, he sent a note, and now, nothing.
Of course part of her worry was out of arrogance. Any young girl feels that intoxicating mixture of pride and flattery within her stomach when a young man begins to pay overly adequate attention to her. When a girl realizes the power that she has over men with her own charms and beauty, she wants only for everyone to see her with that man and how much control she has. Of course, Poppy was not as bad as many, but she could not deny that she loved the looks on everyone's faces as Albus waited to escort her to luncheon or to their next class. She loved how he hovered around the doorway of the Great Hall in his ruffled shirt at the balls, so that the moment she walked in he could snatch her book and take all the best dances. But she cared for him greatly, more than most percieved, and his sudden disappearance frightened her.
Poppy left the ball early and returned to her dormitory to sleep fitfully for the next nine hours, until she rose at six, before the sun, feeling gloomy and out of sorts. The knock on her door, and the usual bouquet of flowers. The dormitory was now fairly overflowing with the dried buds, and it had become a great mystery for the entire school. Everyone wondered when the M.S. would reveal himself to her and they would officially begin courting. Poppy yawned and decided that an early-morning walk on the grounds was a good idea, for it would refresh her spirits, and she had not visited her favorite spot in quite a long time.
Her favorite spot was a private discovery of hers from her first year, when she spent much of her time wandering alone by herself. Over a knoll behind the castle, out of view of the Quidditch pitch, there began a little footpath, and it lead towards the Forbidden Forest. The forest itself was not so dark and gloomy over there, but full of tall pines. She had followed the path nervously, until it came to a small clearing with a small pond glistening in the afternoon sunlight. In summer, it was a lovely spot, full of flowers and butterflies and tall grasses bending slightly in the breeze. In winter, it was foggy and dark and frightening, and Poppy loved it.
She knew she was not the only one who knew of its existence, for she had often perceived that there was someone else there. Not watching her, but she thought that perhaps, they too, found it as comfortable as she did. There, she did not worry that her skirt was rumpled, and she never hesitated to let her hair loose or take of her shoes and dip them in the water. She suspected that they were only looking for leisure and tranquility, but she had never encountered them, only seen their shadow darting between trees.
Now, she pulled on her rose-colored dress with the white lace that she loved, and hastily pinned her hair up, not caring that it was a bit messy, for no one would see her. She slipped on her heavier boots (they would not show below her hem), and pulled her cloak over her shoulders, fastening it around her throat. Then, making sure that the other girls still slept peacefully, she blew out the candle she had lit, opened the door and stole out into the stone passageway. Up through the common room, where last night's embers glowed faintly, and out the door.
As she hurried through the halls of the school, she made careful not to make any noise of her feet upon the stone floor, or brush any statue with her cloak. No one was up. Everyone still slept peacefully in their beds, and she was alone. Out into the entrance hall, through the great doors, and down the steps. She went around the school, towards the back, glancing over her shoulder once or twice to see if anyone was watching her from the windows, but no one was in sight. They had been having a warmer winter, and there was very little snow, but lots of rain. The mist veiled her from anyone who might have been watching out the windows.
She found her footpath, though it was muddy, and hurried along it, almost running now, in her need for solitude. She passed through the first trees, and as they gradually got thicker, she slowed down. She could see it through the mist and the tall trunks. There it was, her lovely pond, though dark green now in the winter, with no butterflies and no sparkling sun, it was still a perfect place for her.
Poppy pulled the hood down off of her hair and slowly pulled the pins and combs out of the unruly mass, which had become even more so because of the damp weather. She was rather proud of her hair, in a modest way, for it was long and shiny, and she sometimes wished that etiquette did not require that she keep it up and out of her face, for she loved the thickness of it. However, any decent young woman would never be seen with her hair down in public, much less in the company of a gentleman.
Poppy pulled out her wand, intending to use it to rid a patch of grass of dampness so that she could sit and ponder, when she heard something move in the grass to her right. She gasped, and turned, her wand pointing out, though she could not see anything but indistinct shadows. Another movement. Poppy gripped the wand as tightly as she could, shaking in fear. There were footsteps, very definitely footsteps, coming straight towards her. A tall, bulky shadow...Poppy felt fear overcome her...It was nearly upon her and yet she could not speak to cast a curse upon it -
"Miss Pomfrey?" A startled voice said.
The bulky figure walked forward. It was a young man, in a dark cloak like her own...
"Mister Dumbledore!" She replied in a voice much more startled than his, yet laced with relief, "You gave me a fright!"
"What are you doing out of bounds, so early in the morning, and on your own?"
"I was just...Walking, I suppose, I come here often to relax and...What are you doing here? I thought you were in London on family business?"
"Is that what they told you?" Albus looked highly amused, "No. I was in London, and...Well, in a way it is family business, but that is not important. I am very surprised that you come here often, for I do, as well, but I have never seen you here before."
"Well, I do not parade around the fact that I am often out of bounds during school," Poppy pulled her cloak around her tighter, "I do so much enjoy being on my own in nature."
"It is not safe for you to be out on your own," Albus looked very solemn, "You should always bring a chaperone."
"Oh," Poppy looked defiantly at him, "And of course it is not at all dangerous for you to be out here on your own, is it?"
Albus' look changed to surprise, and then to amusement.
"Excuse me for my presumptuous behavior," He said, bowing a little.
Poppy felt very timid, so she took a step forward, and they walked silently around to the other side of the pond. Poppy was very surprised, indeed, to see a blanket spread out on the ground, as well as utensils, plates, glasses, and two wicker baskets. Poppy suddenly felt very bashful. Obviously, Albus was waiting for someone, and, in search of intimacy, had come here.
"Oh, I am dreadfully sorry," Poppy said, turning and facing him, "I see I have ruined your private...Gathering. I will go so as not to interrupt."
"Miss Pomfrey, you are a clever young lady, but so droll sometimes!" Albus said, laughing, "Do forgive me, but do you not realize that I had set this out and was just about to send a house elf to fetch you?"
Poppy stood, only amazed.
"Indeed, that is why I approached you so quickly, for I thought you were the house elf, and then you were there, without an escort and I thought..." Albus suddenly blushed, "Well...Will you join me?"
Poppy recovered herself quickly, "Yes, of course, though...We should have an escort, for it is not proper."
"Do you really want an escort, Miss Pomfrey?" Albus' voice was very low indeed.
Poppy was about to answer yes, but checked herself. It was very nice to be away from the hustle and bustle of the school, though they were quite alone, and it was very improper to be such without someone to watch them. Yet again, she trusted Albus, she did not think he was the sort of young man who would do anything indecent.
So she smiled, and said, "I think we are quite all right by ourselves. After all, we are both
very smart, and I have my wand."
"As do I," Albus pulled open one side of his jacket to show her, "Let us sit."
They went to the blanket and sat slowly. Albus began pulling out toast, bacon, and eggs (all kept warm with a simple charm), and setting them out before her. There was also a steaming pot of tea and very fine china tea cups and saucers, sugar, and orange marmalade. Last but not least, Albus pulled out a little jar of dried cherries.
"This was my business in London last night," He said, showing her the jar, and then opening it with a little pop, "I thought you might like something special."
"How did you know that...That dried cherries..." Poppy could not find the words, and only smiled, "You are too kind, Mister Dumbledore."
They began to eat, and the white sun slowly rose, though it mattered little, for its light did not add much, and the mist remained. The whole time, they made small talk, and suffered through some very awkward pauses. Poppy thought that, several times, Albus was on the point of saying something of importance, but he never got it out. Poppy dearly wished that she could bring about a more intimate subject than the weather or their latest Herbology lesson, but she was too shy to do such a thing. However, fate grew bored with their conversation, and so ordered a bit of embarrassment to cure them of their prudence.
Poppy was helping Albus pack up the things when they were done eating, leaving only their tea and the jar of dried cherries, which they had saved for last, and was having a bit of trouble fastening the basket. She pulled it a bit closer to her, and a dark lock of hair fell over her eyes. Immediately, she stopped moving, except to slowly reach up and lightly touch her hair, realizing that, the entire time she had been in this secluded setting, alone with a young man, her hair had been down, and she was scandalized.
"Are you all right?" Albus asked, noticing her sudden panic, "Is something amiss?"
"I...I...My hair!" She fumbled in her pockets for her pins, and clumsily tried to pin it up again, only to drop the pin and lose it in the grass, her cheeks growing hotter with every second.
"Miss Pomfrey," Albus said, and then, putting his hand on her wrist, "Poppy."
She looked up, and was now a frightful shade of maroon at his addressing her by only her Christian name. Her first thought was to slap him for his insolence. She had not given him any permission, and they were not courting, and here he was, in all his high and mighty Albus Dumbledore-ness, calling her by her Christian name -
"You look fine with your hair down, though it is a bit unruly," He playfully pulled at one corkscrew, "Truly beautiful, in fact, for you are not all fussy and proper as you are in school."
If it was possible, Poppy turned even darker (it was possible, but do not try it, it is very unhealthy). But she slowly slipped her pins back into her pocket, and her color returned to normal, though her cheeks were still very pink, mostly from the chill. She sipped tea without speaking, still apparently very mortified, and Albus did not try to make her, for fear of upsetting her.
In the same low voice in which he had asked her if she wanted a chaperone, Albus finally began speaking again, "I think you know the reason I have brought you here."
Poppy set down her cup with a small clink.
"I, for the longest time, have believed this world to lack any decent young women who are not just handsome, for there are plenty of those around, but also clever and witty. It was quite a desperate time for me, for my parents were, and still are, pushing me to marry this disgustingly uneducated girl that I despise. However, I now find that I was mistaken."
Poppy didn't say anything, only looked up at him earnestly, her gray eyes wide and a half-smile on her face.
"I should like very much to tell you exactly of my intentions, and they are simply this : I should like to court you, in a manner which is civil, yet not lacking of any intimacy. I hope this courtship would lead to a very intimate relation, but that is far in the future and we are only at the beginning. I would have written a letter, however, I felt that lacked sincerity and that I would never get an answer. So, now, may I have an answer?"
Poppy smiled more widely, blinked once, and said, "Yes."
Whatever the sun lacked, Albus made up for when she said that, for it was as though a light had pierced a shell around him and broken forth with his brilliant smile, and his sparkling, sky-blue eyes. He looked as though he would kiss her right there, but, instead, took her hand, kissed it gently, and then held it in his own. They sat and simply looked at each other, both radiating happiness, until a nervous house elf found them and insisted that they return to the castle, as it was time for their luncheon.