As Minerva wandered through the corridors- she closed her eyes and realized that they had crossed the line. She had crossed the line. For she entirely blamed herself- of course it was her fault, as if Albus Dumbledore would ever love her!
It was she who had fallen in love with him. Now, she finally dared to admit it. She had to admit it, for it was the truth, and Minerva McGonagall had always valued the truth higher than tact or sensitivity. She had always been hard with others- now she had to be hard with herself.
Yes, she recalled, leaning against the cold, stone wall of Hogwarts, she, Minerva McGonagall, the Head Girl who had always known exactly what was right and what wasn't, had fallen in love with a teacher who was, at least, three times her age.
Face it, Minerva, she sternly spoke to herself, yet she shivered as she realized the full proportions of her feelings.
It wasn't a crush. It was certainly not a crush.
It was love, it consumed her.
And it was forbidden.
It most definitely was.
Minerva bit her lips as she firmly slapped herself in the face.
Quit it now, quit it!
But she had kissed her teacher and she could never go back.
But did she want to go back? No, she did not, and perhaps that was the most disturbing thing of them all! She had *wanted* to kiss him. She even wanted to kiss him again…
Feelings, Minerva McGonagall realized, were dangerous things.
~*~
Yet she managed to pull herself together- she had to control herself, she had to stop these tears from falling from her eyes… It was late and she had to go to the Gryffindor Common Room- or better, to her bed. She did not feel like chattering at all.
She had to think.
Thinking clearly, thinking logically, a thing she had always been good at, yet now, it suddenly seemed so difficult.
"Good," she sternly spoke to herself. "You appear to have fallen in love with an older, famous man who does not love you back. Great. Now pull yourself together and decide what to do."
But what did she have to do?
Go back tomorrow, for her last detention?
Not return, and expect him to understand it?
Go back, and face him again… or not return and lose everything of the kind-of friendship they had built up. But would they not no matter what lose that friendship?
"Yes of course you will, you big idiot!" Minerva snapped to herself.
But she would go back tomorrow. She was a Gryffindor after all, and the least she could do was apologize. Apologize and then never, never ever again look him in the eyes.
"I will return." she softly muttered as she stood before the entrance of her Common Room.
"I am sure you will, my dear." the Fat Lady answered sleepily. "Password?"
"Lacrimae Virginis." Minerva quickly answered, as she recalled how strangely well-fit the password suddenly seemed. Lacrimae Virginis. Tears of a girl…
As she entered the Common Room, she felt enormously relieved as she saw it was already empty. She was lucky…
All she wanted was lay down on her bed with her clothes still on and just sleep… sleep and or a while forget her troubles.
But there was still Rolanda Hooch.
As she, already lying in her bed, heard stumbling on the stairs, she sat up straight.
"Minerva?"
"Yes, Rolanda."
Minerva's voiced sounded slightly muffled- strange.
"Where have you been- my god, Minerva, have you been crying?"
Minerva snorted, yet frantically wiped the last marks of tears on her cheeks away. Stupid red puffy eyes…
"Of course not, Rolanda!" she then muttered, hoping her voice didn't tremble. "I have a cold, that's all. Have you ever seen me crying?"
Since Rolanda had indeed never seen her formidable friend cry, she shrugged her shoulders and lay down again.
"Well, okay then, Min. Goodnight!"
She was not entirely convinced, though.
Minerva, who was very grateful indeed, curled up in her bed, and slept…
It was she who had fallen in love with him. Now, she finally dared to admit it. She had to admit it, for it was the truth, and Minerva McGonagall had always valued the truth higher than tact or sensitivity. She had always been hard with others- now she had to be hard with herself.
Yes, she recalled, leaning against the cold, stone wall of Hogwarts, she, Minerva McGonagall, the Head Girl who had always known exactly what was right and what wasn't, had fallen in love with a teacher who was, at least, three times her age.
Face it, Minerva, she sternly spoke to herself, yet she shivered as she realized the full proportions of her feelings.
It wasn't a crush. It was certainly not a crush.
It was love, it consumed her.
And it was forbidden.
It most definitely was.
Minerva bit her lips as she firmly slapped herself in the face.
Quit it now, quit it!
But she had kissed her teacher and she could never go back.
But did she want to go back? No, she did not, and perhaps that was the most disturbing thing of them all! She had *wanted* to kiss him. She even wanted to kiss him again…
Feelings, Minerva McGonagall realized, were dangerous things.
~*~
Yet she managed to pull herself together- she had to control herself, she had to stop these tears from falling from her eyes… It was late and she had to go to the Gryffindor Common Room- or better, to her bed. She did not feel like chattering at all.
She had to think.
Thinking clearly, thinking logically, a thing she had always been good at, yet now, it suddenly seemed so difficult.
"Good," she sternly spoke to herself. "You appear to have fallen in love with an older, famous man who does not love you back. Great. Now pull yourself together and decide what to do."
But what did she have to do?
Go back tomorrow, for her last detention?
Not return, and expect him to understand it?
Go back, and face him again… or not return and lose everything of the kind-of friendship they had built up. But would they not no matter what lose that friendship?
"Yes of course you will, you big idiot!" Minerva snapped to herself.
But she would go back tomorrow. She was a Gryffindor after all, and the least she could do was apologize. Apologize and then never, never ever again look him in the eyes.
"I will return." she softly muttered as she stood before the entrance of her Common Room.
"I am sure you will, my dear." the Fat Lady answered sleepily. "Password?"
"Lacrimae Virginis." Minerva quickly answered, as she recalled how strangely well-fit the password suddenly seemed. Lacrimae Virginis. Tears of a girl…
As she entered the Common Room, she felt enormously relieved as she saw it was already empty. She was lucky…
All she wanted was lay down on her bed with her clothes still on and just sleep… sleep and or a while forget her troubles.
But there was still Rolanda Hooch.
As she, already lying in her bed, heard stumbling on the stairs, she sat up straight.
"Minerva?"
"Yes, Rolanda."
Minerva's voiced sounded slightly muffled- strange.
"Where have you been- my god, Minerva, have you been crying?"
Minerva snorted, yet frantically wiped the last marks of tears on her cheeks away. Stupid red puffy eyes…
"Of course not, Rolanda!" she then muttered, hoping her voice didn't tremble. "I have a cold, that's all. Have you ever seen me crying?"
Since Rolanda had indeed never seen her formidable friend cry, she shrugged her shoulders and lay down again.
"Well, okay then, Min. Goodnight!"
She was not entirely convinced, though.
Minerva, who was very grateful indeed, curled up in her bed, and slept…