"…and you are going to write him a Valentine card." Rolanda spoke determinedly.
Minerva snorted as Rolanda gave her a pink, heart-shaped piece of parchment.
"Rolanda, if you think I am going to write so much as a single word…"
"Yes, yes, then I am mistaken. Min, I've really known you for too long to let that sentence frighten me."
Minerva raised an eyebrow and opened her mouth to retort her friend's remark, but Rolanda Hooch totally ignored her and stood up.
"I," she spoke, in a very good imitation of the tone Minerva usually used with her students. "expect you, Minerva, to write something- I don't want to know what- on this beautiful parchment. You don't even have to sign it. This all is a part of the second step of my plan… the "(Valentine-) Cards-On-The-Table"-round."
And with that, she rushed away, just in time, because seconds later, Minerva's book hit the wall right on the spot where Rolanda's head had been.
"Rolanda Hooch, I hate you!" muttered Minerva, but she knew she didn't mean it. Maybe she- could she write Albus a Valentine's card?
Maybe this was the time to finally use that little poem, the only poem she had ever written- she'd never been the poem-kind of woman. But she had written one, long ago, and she had never been able to throw it away. She'd always kept it, here, in the first drawer of her desk.
With her hand shaking, she opened it.
And found what she'd been looking for. A piece of already yellowish parchment, on which were, in Minerva's so well-known blue ink, the words that she still kept hidden in her heart.
"I need
a word to express what I feel,
for "love" is so unreal
and so often used before.
I can't
believe that this
feelings too strong for a kiss…
I cannot hide them anymore.
You, my love, are my shore,
my place to come home to,
my eternal thrill
and I won't doubt anymore
I know for sure I do,
I always will
love you."
Minerva snorted softly as she read all those desperate- melodramatic words that she had written down so long ago. Though she knew she would never ever write a poem again- not that it was real poetry, of course- she also knew that she had never been able to describe her feelings better. This was what she felt, though she felt slightly ashamed for it. She, stern, calm, wise Minerva McGonagall, writing all these things like any ordinary school girl. But again, a part of her still was that school girl- in love with her teacher…
Resolutely, Minerva took her quill, took her new bottle of golden ink- she'd never used it before, she'd always thought colors other than dark blue were loud and immature- and then, she started to copy her own words on the piece of parchment Rolanda had given her.
And she was surprised of her own stupidity… what was she trying to accomplish with this? Albus would not know anything more about her feeling from it… and even if he guessed it… what if he guessed it… she'd lose their friendship and be lonely forever! But it was impossible- he could never think she was a red-valentine's-card-with-golden-ink-on-it-person.
But she was, and she felt her cheeks turn slightly read. She felt so ashamed… it was extremely, extremely stupid and immature of her, to…
Yet, she stood up, shivering softly as she realized…
She was going to send Albus Dumbledore a Valentine's card.
Review please… and again, a merry Christmas and a happy New Year!
Minerva snorted as Rolanda gave her a pink, heart-shaped piece of parchment.
"Rolanda, if you think I am going to write so much as a single word…"
"Yes, yes, then I am mistaken. Min, I've really known you for too long to let that sentence frighten me."
Minerva raised an eyebrow and opened her mouth to retort her friend's remark, but Rolanda Hooch totally ignored her and stood up.
"I," she spoke, in a very good imitation of the tone Minerva usually used with her students. "expect you, Minerva, to write something- I don't want to know what- on this beautiful parchment. You don't even have to sign it. This all is a part of the second step of my plan… the "(Valentine-) Cards-On-The-Table"-round."
And with that, she rushed away, just in time, because seconds later, Minerva's book hit the wall right on the spot where Rolanda's head had been.
"Rolanda Hooch, I hate you!" muttered Minerva, but she knew she didn't mean it. Maybe she- could she write Albus a Valentine's card?
Maybe this was the time to finally use that little poem, the only poem she had ever written- she'd never been the poem-kind of woman. But she had written one, long ago, and she had never been able to throw it away. She'd always kept it, here, in the first drawer of her desk.
With her hand shaking, she opened it.
And found what she'd been looking for. A piece of already yellowish parchment, on which were, in Minerva's so well-known blue ink, the words that she still kept hidden in her heart.
"I need
a word to express what I feel,
for "love" is so unreal
and so often used before.
I can't
believe that this
feelings too strong for a kiss…
I cannot hide them anymore.
You, my love, are my shore,
my place to come home to,
my eternal thrill
and I won't doubt anymore
I know for sure I do,
I always will
love you."
Minerva snorted softly as she read all those desperate- melodramatic words that she had written down so long ago. Though she knew she would never ever write a poem again- not that it was real poetry, of course- she also knew that she had never been able to describe her feelings better. This was what she felt, though she felt slightly ashamed for it. She, stern, calm, wise Minerva McGonagall, writing all these things like any ordinary school girl. But again, a part of her still was that school girl- in love with her teacher…
Resolutely, Minerva took her quill, took her new bottle of golden ink- she'd never used it before, she'd always thought colors other than dark blue were loud and immature- and then, she started to copy her own words on the piece of parchment Rolanda had given her.
And she was surprised of her own stupidity… what was she trying to accomplish with this? Albus would not know anything more about her feeling from it… and even if he guessed it… what if he guessed it… she'd lose their friendship and be lonely forever! But it was impossible- he could never think she was a red-valentine's-card-with-golden-ink-on-it-person.
But she was, and she felt her cheeks turn slightly read. She felt so ashamed… it was extremely, extremely stupid and immature of her, to…
Yet, she stood up, shivering softly as she realized…
She was going to send Albus Dumbledore a Valentine's card.
Review please… and again, a merry Christmas and a happy New Year!
