"Albus?"
Minerva's hands trembled as she saw Dumbledore's jaw drop.
"Professor McGonagall???" he uttered- obviously hardly believing what he saw.
Minerva lowered her eyes.
"I can explain..." came her, weak, reply.
The Headmaster, folding his arms and staring at his deputy in surprise and confusion, nodded.
"I'd hope so, Professor. I am not used to my employees dropping chandeliers and then breaking into my rooms…"
A feeling of utter loneliness fell over Minerva's heart as she heard him speak that one word. Employees. Did he really think of her- his best friend, for God's sake!- as nothing more than just an employee, then? Apparently, he did. That would surely explain the distance, the- coldness in his eyes as he beckoned them.
"Now, Professor McGonagall, Professor Sinistra, please follow me to my office."
Minerva heard her own, strange, voice object- rightfully object, obviously. After all, it was her who had literally dragged herself into this action of hers…
"Sera has got nothing to do with this, Albus. It's my fault. Leave her out of this." she flatly spoke.
Albus raised his eyebrows, then slightly shrugged his shoulders.
"Very well, Minerva. Then you follow me."
And she did follow him. Though he had at least called her by her first name, she felt more helpless than ever. This was the man she loved, and he would never love her in return. It was all so unfair, now wasn't it, she pondered, following her employer through the corridors. She had never loved anyone else than this person- at first her teacher, then her colleague and now her employer. He always had been the only one in her heart, for twenty full years now… She was quite pretty she knew- always had been- but why did this man, the only man she had ever wanted, have to be exactly the one she couldn't get?
As they entered his office, she sighed and, at his bidding, sat down. She didn't even have to see the grave look in his eyes again to realize that she was in serious troubles. Damn serious troubles really. And yes, she had always been quite witty- but this was a quite exceptional situation, after all… well, it surely was one she'd never expected to find herself in.
Because what a stupid idea it had been! Now come on! She'd always been so careful, so rule-following, so calm and intelligent… and now, she'd just lost every bit of common sense because of one silly ring! Because of one silly love.
But her love wasn't silly. Not to her.
"Minerva…" Albus began, after a long silence and after- ever the gentleman- offering her a lemon drop, which she refused.
Minerva sighed, shook her head and then softly cut off his sentence.
"No, Albus, it's me who has got something to say. That I- I am sorry…"
But she wasn't sorry. At least, not really. She wasn't sorry because she couldn't help what had driven her to her perhaps rash action. She couldn't help loving him beyond reason. For twenty years- twenty full years!- she had tried with ever fiber of her slender body to fight her pointless, consuming love for her teacher- and later on, for her employer. And she had lost.
For the very first time in her young life, Minerva McGonagall had lost a fight.
The only battle in her life that really, really mattered, she'd lost.
The battle against her own heart.
"I am sorry, Albus, and…"
But now it was Albus' turn to interrupt her.
"Don't bother, Minerva, I am not angry with you. I just-"
He looked at her thoughtfully, hesitatingly, and then added
"I just want to know what's wrong with you tonight."
"Nothing."
Minerva McGonagall really wasn't a good liar. Her eyes told quite another story than just her reluctant "nothing"…
Albus could hardly oppress a smile as he handed her one of his own, purple cups, filled with his personal, delicious-smelling hot chocolate. She gratefully accepted.
"Nothing- oh, sure. Really Minerva, if you cannot tell a proper lie then just don't bother. Look at you. Your eyes are all puffy and red, you have your hair down in a totally uncharacteristic way and you are almost hyperventilating! You are upset, Minerva."
"I am not!" was her fierce reply- but she immediately knew she was lying again. Yet what could she do but lie?
Albus smiled and then- quite unexpectedly indeed- softly stroked her hand with his thumb.
"Do not lie to me, Minerva McGonagall. I grew up with Aberforth- lies have no effect on me. What is the matter? What made you break into my office?"
His asking irritated Minerva beyond words. After all, it wasn't as if he cared the least about her… and he could as well stop pretending and just leave her alone. He wasn't angry with her, he had said and she did believe him- if there was someone a worse liar than herself, then it probably was Albus Dumbledore! She was grateful for that, yes, he had been and perhaps even still was one of her best friends, but… Couldn't he just let her go and propose to the ruddy woman who'd captured his heart? She didn't even care anymore…
Shaking heavily, she stood up, with a bang replacing the half-empty cup on his desk.
"Look, Albus, I told you I am sorry and I truly am. Can I please go now?"
"No…"
He suddenly looked very serious as, out of his pocket, he took a small, dark purple velvet-covered box.
"I wonder, Minerva, whether it has perhaps something to do with this."
Her reaction was unmistakable. With a soft cry, she landed again on her chair. She felt angry tears spring into her eyes again, and hated herself for it.
Albus contentedly smiled, but the usual sparkles had very suddenly left his eyes …
"So that's it. Yes, I thought Madam Pomfrey had seen me buy it. But what…"
As soon as Minerva had returned to "common sense" mode again, though, she raised herself from her seat once more and headed for the door. She trembled and tears rolled off her cheeks now.
"Yes, Albus, that's it. Poppy told me, I was stupidly curious and decided to pull a joke on you. Right? So now I leave."
"Don't."
The serious undertone in his voice made her freeze and stand still.
"You know it's meant as an engagement ring?"
"I do."
"Well, Minerva, I'd want to ask you something- but I don't know…"
Minerva suddenly had a terrible vision and started stammering.
"Oh no, Albus, ask anyone, even Aberforth, to be your best man- but I won't be your best woman… Really, I couldn't…"
He gravely nodded, and she sighed in relief. Yet something of pain cut straight through her heart as well. Did she then really mean nothing to him, nothing at all.
"Yet I insist you do attend the wedding, my dear. That is, if the bride accepts."
Minerva stood speechless. How could he hurt her like that? Was he really then too blind to see that she had had a terrible crush on him for no less than twenty years? Even now, when he hurt her with every word he spoke, she couldn't help hoping… Attend his wedding, she? Witness him saying "I do" to another woman?
"I am sorry, Albus- but I really can't do that. Now bye- I have work to…"
"Stay."
Again, that certain, authoritarian tone in his usually soft voice made her freeze.
But she did so want to leave…
"Albus!" she almost cried, but she could not move, even when he stood up and moved towards her.
"Albus, please, I have to go and I congratulate you with your wedding but…"
"Would you like to see the ring?"
Okay, Minerva said to herself after these, playfully muttered words. Okay, I don't have to take this from him, do I? This was torture and she had a strange feeling he very well realized it.
"No, Albus Dumbledore!" she raged. "No, I don't want to see the bloody ring you're planning to give that bloody woman whose name is probably bloody carved into the bloody thing! I hope she…"
Losing self control was not a good thing, Minerva realized. Losing your extremely strong, Scottish temper was even worse, though. But she went on.
"I hope she bloody says "no" to your bloody proposal and no, I don't want to attend your pathetic little wedding!"
Here, she was cut off suddenly.
Because Albus Dumbledore, the Albus Dumbledore- had just backed her against the stone wall and she found herself holding her breath as the tip of his crooked nose touched hers.
Then, it happened. The one thing that just couldn't happen, happened.
All of a sudden, his lips were on hers and everything was good.
She froze, though, and despite the warm, soft feeling of his- chocolate?- tasting tongue slowly seeking its way into her mouth, she couldn't move.
Until she felt him, slowly, pulling back.
Minerva McGonagall suddenly found her strength, and paradise was hers. All she could see were his cerulean eyes, twinkling as never before, all she could feel was this one moment, and all she could breathe was his life. His life, her life, their life- it all didn't matter anymore.
She felt his quite muscular arms around her waist, she felt his hands caress her flowing, silky hair, she felt her own, slender arms crawl against his chest and around his neck.
Albus had her caught between the wall and his body, and it felt wonderful.
Only after minutes and minutes, they, half-smothered, pulled back and, as Albus softly stroked his long-desired, new lover's still wet cheek, he pointed towards the purple box.
"Now open it."
And she did. And tears- but of happiness, this time- again rolled off her cheeks as her eyes met the ring- a wonderful, silver ring wearing a dark red ruby. And most of all- the words carved into it.
"Minerva, I love you."
A cliché, probably, those three words, but on that very moment in her future husband's office, Minerva McGonagall found out- as so many lovers had found out before her- that those, little words, contained so much more than an ancient clich
"Albus, I…"
She looked up and Albus smiled tenderly as she curled up next to him. After a few more, rather enjoyable, moments, he grinned his very own, mischievous smile.
"So you see, my dear, you must attend my marriage, I suppose. If my bride accepts my proposal, that is…"
Minerva suddenly understood the game he had been playing with her all night, and widely smiled as she flung her arms round his shoulders, pulling him into a passionate kiss she'd never thought herself capable of.
When she released him, he looked slightly flustered but smiled.
"Do I have to take that as a yes, my dear?"
"Damn yes you do!" came her, muffled answer, as he pulled her into another prolonged kiss again.
Minerva McGonagall learnt one thing that night.
Paradise can happen.
Minerva's hands trembled as she saw Dumbledore's jaw drop.
"Professor McGonagall???" he uttered- obviously hardly believing what he saw.
Minerva lowered her eyes.
"I can explain..." came her, weak, reply.
The Headmaster, folding his arms and staring at his deputy in surprise and confusion, nodded.
"I'd hope so, Professor. I am not used to my employees dropping chandeliers and then breaking into my rooms…"
A feeling of utter loneliness fell over Minerva's heart as she heard him speak that one word. Employees. Did he really think of her- his best friend, for God's sake!- as nothing more than just an employee, then? Apparently, he did. That would surely explain the distance, the- coldness in his eyes as he beckoned them.
"Now, Professor McGonagall, Professor Sinistra, please follow me to my office."
Minerva heard her own, strange, voice object- rightfully object, obviously. After all, it was her who had literally dragged herself into this action of hers…
"Sera has got nothing to do with this, Albus. It's my fault. Leave her out of this." she flatly spoke.
Albus raised his eyebrows, then slightly shrugged his shoulders.
"Very well, Minerva. Then you follow me."
And she did follow him. Though he had at least called her by her first name, she felt more helpless than ever. This was the man she loved, and he would never love her in return. It was all so unfair, now wasn't it, she pondered, following her employer through the corridors. She had never loved anyone else than this person- at first her teacher, then her colleague and now her employer. He always had been the only one in her heart, for twenty full years now… She was quite pretty she knew- always had been- but why did this man, the only man she had ever wanted, have to be exactly the one she couldn't get?
As they entered his office, she sighed and, at his bidding, sat down. She didn't even have to see the grave look in his eyes again to realize that she was in serious troubles. Damn serious troubles really. And yes, she had always been quite witty- but this was a quite exceptional situation, after all… well, it surely was one she'd never expected to find herself in.
Because what a stupid idea it had been! Now come on! She'd always been so careful, so rule-following, so calm and intelligent… and now, she'd just lost every bit of common sense because of one silly ring! Because of one silly love.
But her love wasn't silly. Not to her.
"Minerva…" Albus began, after a long silence and after- ever the gentleman- offering her a lemon drop, which she refused.
Minerva sighed, shook her head and then softly cut off his sentence.
"No, Albus, it's me who has got something to say. That I- I am sorry…"
But she wasn't sorry. At least, not really. She wasn't sorry because she couldn't help what had driven her to her perhaps rash action. She couldn't help loving him beyond reason. For twenty years- twenty full years!- she had tried with ever fiber of her slender body to fight her pointless, consuming love for her teacher- and later on, for her employer. And she had lost.
For the very first time in her young life, Minerva McGonagall had lost a fight.
The only battle in her life that really, really mattered, she'd lost.
The battle against her own heart.
"I am sorry, Albus, and…"
But now it was Albus' turn to interrupt her.
"Don't bother, Minerva, I am not angry with you. I just-"
He looked at her thoughtfully, hesitatingly, and then added
"I just want to know what's wrong with you tonight."
"Nothing."
Minerva McGonagall really wasn't a good liar. Her eyes told quite another story than just her reluctant "nothing"…
Albus could hardly oppress a smile as he handed her one of his own, purple cups, filled with his personal, delicious-smelling hot chocolate. She gratefully accepted.
"Nothing- oh, sure. Really Minerva, if you cannot tell a proper lie then just don't bother. Look at you. Your eyes are all puffy and red, you have your hair down in a totally uncharacteristic way and you are almost hyperventilating! You are upset, Minerva."
"I am not!" was her fierce reply- but she immediately knew she was lying again. Yet what could she do but lie?
Albus smiled and then- quite unexpectedly indeed- softly stroked her hand with his thumb.
"Do not lie to me, Minerva McGonagall. I grew up with Aberforth- lies have no effect on me. What is the matter? What made you break into my office?"
His asking irritated Minerva beyond words. After all, it wasn't as if he cared the least about her… and he could as well stop pretending and just leave her alone. He wasn't angry with her, he had said and she did believe him- if there was someone a worse liar than herself, then it probably was Albus Dumbledore! She was grateful for that, yes, he had been and perhaps even still was one of her best friends, but… Couldn't he just let her go and propose to the ruddy woman who'd captured his heart? She didn't even care anymore…
Shaking heavily, she stood up, with a bang replacing the half-empty cup on his desk.
"Look, Albus, I told you I am sorry and I truly am. Can I please go now?"
"No…"
He suddenly looked very serious as, out of his pocket, he took a small, dark purple velvet-covered box.
"I wonder, Minerva, whether it has perhaps something to do with this."
Her reaction was unmistakable. With a soft cry, she landed again on her chair. She felt angry tears spring into her eyes again, and hated herself for it.
Albus contentedly smiled, but the usual sparkles had very suddenly left his eyes …
"So that's it. Yes, I thought Madam Pomfrey had seen me buy it. But what…"
As soon as Minerva had returned to "common sense" mode again, though, she raised herself from her seat once more and headed for the door. She trembled and tears rolled off her cheeks now.
"Yes, Albus, that's it. Poppy told me, I was stupidly curious and decided to pull a joke on you. Right? So now I leave."
"Don't."
The serious undertone in his voice made her freeze and stand still.
"You know it's meant as an engagement ring?"
"I do."
"Well, Minerva, I'd want to ask you something- but I don't know…"
Minerva suddenly had a terrible vision and started stammering.
"Oh no, Albus, ask anyone, even Aberforth, to be your best man- but I won't be your best woman… Really, I couldn't…"
He gravely nodded, and she sighed in relief. Yet something of pain cut straight through her heart as well. Did she then really mean nothing to him, nothing at all.
"Yet I insist you do attend the wedding, my dear. That is, if the bride accepts."
Minerva stood speechless. How could he hurt her like that? Was he really then too blind to see that she had had a terrible crush on him for no less than twenty years? Even now, when he hurt her with every word he spoke, she couldn't help hoping… Attend his wedding, she? Witness him saying "I do" to another woman?
"I am sorry, Albus- but I really can't do that. Now bye- I have work to…"
"Stay."
Again, that certain, authoritarian tone in his usually soft voice made her freeze.
But she did so want to leave…
"Albus!" she almost cried, but she could not move, even when he stood up and moved towards her.
"Albus, please, I have to go and I congratulate you with your wedding but…"
"Would you like to see the ring?"
Okay, Minerva said to herself after these, playfully muttered words. Okay, I don't have to take this from him, do I? This was torture and she had a strange feeling he very well realized it.
"No, Albus Dumbledore!" she raged. "No, I don't want to see the bloody ring you're planning to give that bloody woman whose name is probably bloody carved into the bloody thing! I hope she…"
Losing self control was not a good thing, Minerva realized. Losing your extremely strong, Scottish temper was even worse, though. But she went on.
"I hope she bloody says "no" to your bloody proposal and no, I don't want to attend your pathetic little wedding!"
Here, she was cut off suddenly.
Because Albus Dumbledore, the Albus Dumbledore- had just backed her against the stone wall and she found herself holding her breath as the tip of his crooked nose touched hers.
Then, it happened. The one thing that just couldn't happen, happened.
All of a sudden, his lips were on hers and everything was good.
She froze, though, and despite the warm, soft feeling of his- chocolate?- tasting tongue slowly seeking its way into her mouth, she couldn't move.
Until she felt him, slowly, pulling back.
Minerva McGonagall suddenly found her strength, and paradise was hers. All she could see were his cerulean eyes, twinkling as never before, all she could feel was this one moment, and all she could breathe was his life. His life, her life, their life- it all didn't matter anymore.
She felt his quite muscular arms around her waist, she felt his hands caress her flowing, silky hair, she felt her own, slender arms crawl against his chest and around his neck.
Albus had her caught between the wall and his body, and it felt wonderful.
Only after minutes and minutes, they, half-smothered, pulled back and, as Albus softly stroked his long-desired, new lover's still wet cheek, he pointed towards the purple box.
"Now open it."
And she did. And tears- but of happiness, this time- again rolled off her cheeks as her eyes met the ring- a wonderful, silver ring wearing a dark red ruby. And most of all- the words carved into it.
"Minerva, I love you."
A cliché, probably, those three words, but on that very moment in her future husband's office, Minerva McGonagall found out- as so many lovers had found out before her- that those, little words, contained so much more than an ancient clich
"Albus, I…"
She looked up and Albus smiled tenderly as she curled up next to him. After a few more, rather enjoyable, moments, he grinned his very own, mischievous smile.
"So you see, my dear, you must attend my marriage, I suppose. If my bride accepts my proposal, that is…"
Minerva suddenly understood the game he had been playing with her all night, and widely smiled as she flung her arms round his shoulders, pulling him into a passionate kiss she'd never thought herself capable of.
When she released him, he looked slightly flustered but smiled.
"Do I have to take that as a yes, my dear?"
"Damn yes you do!" came her, muffled answer, as he pulled her into another prolonged kiss again.
Minerva McGonagall learnt one thing that night.
Paradise can happen.