Harry Potter is J.K. Rowlings. I own nothing.
Sitting in the window of the Astronomy Tower, Professor Minerva McGonagall surveyed the Hogwarts grounds. She shivered slightly, not for fear of the extreme height she was seated at, but rather for the magnificence of the view. No matter how many times she sat up in the tower, the experience never ceased to be amazing. Minerva sighed and, leaning back against the cold stone wall, closed her eyes as a sharp wind blew around her slender frame.
She was not certain why she was feeling so melancholy, but she could not seem to bring herself out of the deep reverie she was perpetually consumed by. There was no reason for her to be unhappy; her life was better than it had ever been before. She was extremely satisfied with the direction her job as professor of transfiguration was going, she had friends, real friends as she had never had before, and she was in love. Most importantly, Harry Potter was due to come to his first year at Hogwarts the following day.
When she thought about it, that was probably the reason she was distracted. Minerva had had a difficult life but she knew it was nothing compared to what Harry Potter had already experienced and was destined to endure before long. Yes, thoughts about Harry Potter were the cause of Minerva's troubles. She worried about how he would match up against Voldemort when the time came. She had repeatedly told the Headmaster that the Potter boy should be informed about the prophecy which concerned his life as soon as possible, but Dumbledore had disagreed vehemently.
Minerva had always been viewed as an unfeeling, even stoic woman, but the Headmaster knew better. He knew that his fellow professor did not wish to cause the young orphan more pain, but he still did not agree with her that the time was ripe for such an explanation.
Minerva smiled in spite of her present mood when she pictured the expression on the Headmaster's face whenever they discussed this matter. She did not smile because of the obvious trouble and indecision in his face but because of the emotion the countenance showed. Albus Dumbledore had more love in him than any person she had ever met.
Mulling over her thoughts, Minerva realized that she was troubled because of Albus. She believed, though she did not wish to, that Lord Voldemort would rise again, more terrible than before. Albus had told her that it was not a matter of doubt, but a matter of time. She would believe it if he assured her that the world was flat. Her extreme trust of her friend had long ago led her to regard him as more than a friend; in fact, Minerva had loved Albus with all of her heart for nearly fifty years. No person in the entire world was dearer to her, and therefore the inevitable return of Voldemort scared her to death. Albus may have been the only wizard that Voldemort ever feared but that fact did not stop Minerva from worrying. If they dueled, if her love fought the Dark Lord…she did not even want to consider the outcome. Even in Albus won, the suffering he would endure before the end was unthinkable.
Minerva was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she did not hear the footfalls behind her, nor did she notice the man in the room until he placed his hand lightly on her emerald robe-clad shoulder and spoke.
"Good evening, Minerva."
The touch and soft words jolted her from her ponderings and she opened her eyes to see a tall, silver haired and bearded man standing over her.
"Albus! I didn't hear you come in." She did her best to feign happiness, but could not overcome her feelings of hopelessness. "How…how are you?"
Albus looked at her closely, as shrewd look in his deep blue eyes. He was disturbed by the quaver in her usually strong voice. "My dear, what is wrong?" When Minerva made as though to ignore his question, he grabbed her hand and turned her so he could look into her eyes. "Minerva, I know that you are unhappy. I can think of few reasons for anyone to be sitting in the Astronomy Tower at two in the morning, especially in this unpleasant weather. Unless you are attempting to rid Hagrid of an illegal beast…"
Ordinarily, Albus's quip about various students' continued attempts to keep Hagrid out of trouble by shipping off his creatures would have made Minerva laugh, a rare sight to all except Albus, but all she could manage was a weak smile. "At times it is…enjoyable…to lose oneself in the elements."
Albus nodded wisely, taking her explanation for the moment but not willing to let the matter drop. He moved to stand beside her at the window. "Ah, yes…nothing like imperiling oneself by perching on a windowsill in a mile high tower in the midst of gale force winds."
Minerva, who had been staring into the Forbidden Forest, turned to glare at Albus. "You know perfectly well what I mean. I needed to think."
"And have you finished?"
"I believe so…yes…no."
Albus continued looking at her, entranced, as always, by her beauty and mind. "You know, Minerva, you look very impressive silhouetted against the grounds with the wind blowing all about you."
Minerva sighed. "Oh, Albus…I'm not in the mood for jokes. I have a lot on my mind."
"I'm sorry, my dear. But it was not a joke. I was simply trying to cheer you up with the truth."
Minerva smiled. "I know that. And I appreciate it…I just…well, I'm very preoccupied." She went on as Albus continued watching her. "I worry about Harry and the oncoming war, of course, but also about you. Oh, Albus, if you were to leave me, to leave us, your friends and family…we would be so lost."
Albus approached her slowly. He put his hand under her arm and pulled her gently from the stone sill. "As of now, Voldemort has no idea how much I care for you, or to what lengths I would go to in order to be with you," he said, holding her close. "Well, not that anyone knows, apart from Alastor and those blasted Marauders. And Grindelwald, but he went and exploded into a thousand pieces. Oh, and the portraits in my office," he added as an afterthought, a twinkle in his eyes. Minerva gave a small smile as Albus continued. "The point is, Minerva, that as Voldemort does not know the prophecy nor the love I have for you and for Harry, his irrational fear of me will most likely keep him away for years to come.
"His fear is not irrational, Albus. You have no idea the power you radiate…I do not mean to sound as though I am trying to flatter you, but you are the most extraordinary man to have ever lived. And I love you so much…"
Albus smiled and looked down into her jade eyes. "I must say that the feeling is mutual, my Athena. Many times when I pass you in the halls or the Great Hall, I can barely keep myself from jumping onto a table and proclaiming my undying love for you. Or jumping on you. I can see the look on Severus's face now," he said dreamily. "How you tempt me, my love." He ran his long fingers through her raven hair, pulling her body against his. "Would you like to join me as I lose myself in the elements?" he whispered in her ear.
Minerva hugged him tightly. "There is nothing I would rather do."
Breaking apart, the two walked over to the window where Minerva had been sitting previously. She waited as Albus sat down, his back against the stone side of the window. With catlike grace, she settled herself between his legs, her head against his chest, as he wrapped his arms around her.
They sat together in silence for what seemed an eternity. As the sun began to rise, Albus shivered almost imperceptibly. He had never felt such happiness as when he was with Minerva, and yet he was not completely blissful. He knew Minerva's fears were not unfounded. He worried that Voldemort would learn of his love for her or his care for Harry and use it against him. Many nights Albus was haunted by dreams in which he came across Minerva, murdered, or in the clutches of Voldemort. She had already suffered so much…he could not bear for her to experience any more pain. He never knew what to do in these situations until his tortured thoughts woke him up. Then, without fail, he would pull Minerva closer and make sure that she was still breathing.
"I'm sorry you have to experience this, Minerva."
Minerva, whose thoughts had been nearly identical to those of Albus, sighed. "I am too, yet no suffering in the world could make me give back the times I've had with you, nor give up those yet to come." She turned on the wall to face Albus.
"I love you, Minerva."
She leaned into him, pressing her lips to his. As his hands made their way to the small of her back, he deepened the kiss and pulled her to him. They broke apart and stared silently into one another's eyes.
"I love you, Albus."