In a vain attempt to banish her memories once again from her already too stuffed mind, Minerva raised her voice and repeated
"Come in, Albus."
Her words echoed through her empty room, and then, the door was softly pushed open. As he entered, Minerva could hardly oppress a happy sigh. He was sunshine. He was light. And those thoughts of her proved themselves once more right as he greeted her with a twinkle of his eyes and one of his very typical chuckles. What could she do but smile? It was too late, though. He knew her too well, she remembered as his chuckle was smothered somewhat in the sudden, concerned frown of his brow.
"Hello, my dear." was his usual greeting, but it came out a lot softer than it normally did. His hand covered hers and squeezed it. She felt the so familiar curves and lines of his hand, and all of a sudden, the sob she had been oppressing for what felt like ages couldn't but find its way out.
Minerva bowed her head. Ashamed of her tears she was- as she had always been ashamed- as she had led her life in shame.
But never had he cared about her shame- and perhaps it was that that bothered her the most. He loved her, she knew, and he really, really shouldn't. He was powerful, but on top of it was he good- good like no-one else had been good before him, and she was not.
She had all her life tried to do the right thing, to be a fair, honest, good person like he was- but the truth was she had terribly failed. She had kept the one thing, the one essence of her life a secret.
Even for him.
Yet his arms found their way around her still slender waist once more, and despite herself and her so obvious guilt, she hid herself in his embrace. His beard dried her tears, the soft stroke of his aged hands eased her pain as it always had. With a sigh, she leant her head against his chest. As he slowly tilted up her chin and kissed her, she did not pull back. She was not fooling him, after all, was she?
He knew she'd never marry him.
He must have understood at least that much through all of the long years she'd spent with him…
So she gave her heart that one, small treat and allowed her lips to smile through his soft pecks on her mouth.
Sometimes, yes, sometimes she wondered what would have happened to her, to them, if there had been no Tom Riddle, no Lord Voldemort in their lives. Would she, that unstained, little cheerful Minerva she had once been, then have become Mrs. Albus Dumbledore instead? Would there have been a great marriage feast- with al his friends and her friends and… And would there then have come… children through the years? Little Albus-es and little Minerva's, to slowly grow under her heart to slowly grow under her soft whispers and his tender strokes? And would they then have grown up- would there then have come children to call her grannie… to call him grandpa, children to crawl on her lap, children to come to Hogwarts once, little, black-haired and blue-eyed Gryffindors to care about?
As her green eyes met his blue ones, she knew she would never know. She would never get to know whether that path of life would have been able to bring her more happiness than her path, the path she had chosen, had offered.
Perhaps it wouldn't have.
Perhaps it just wouldn't have.
Perhaps it just was all the same, anyway- perhaps "choices" were just a dream, perhaps "crossroads" were nothing but imagination… perhaps fate was just fate, and perhaps fate's black-haired, green-eyed daughter was just doomed to life a live like she lead- well-respected, prim teacher on the other hand, ex-whore of Voldemort on the other hand.
For wasn't that exactly what she was?
A whore?
It was that thought that made her pull back- that is, pull back the three millimetres she could. Albus refused to release her, and ultimately she gave in and sighed.
"I love you, Minerva. You know I love you?"
She nodded, closed her eyes and leant her head on his chest. Not this again. Not this hell again…
"Yes. I love you too."
"Marry me."
With another, deep sigh, she shook her head, gently removed her arms from her hips and fell down on the couch.
"You know I cannot, Albus."
He sat down next to her and sighed almost equally sadly.
"I know you cannot, Minerva." he almost literally repeated her words, patting her hand in the familiar gesture that made her, again, wonder how much he really knew. He couldn't- he couldn't…
"You don't know…" came her weak reply, and with a slight smile, he shook his aged head.
"No, I don't, Minerva." he slowly, hesitatingly answered.
"I love you nonetheless."
And Minerva gladly cried on the offered shoulder.
"Come in, Albus."
Her words echoed through her empty room, and then, the door was softly pushed open. As he entered, Minerva could hardly oppress a happy sigh. He was sunshine. He was light. And those thoughts of her proved themselves once more right as he greeted her with a twinkle of his eyes and one of his very typical chuckles. What could she do but smile? It was too late, though. He knew her too well, she remembered as his chuckle was smothered somewhat in the sudden, concerned frown of his brow.
"Hello, my dear." was his usual greeting, but it came out a lot softer than it normally did. His hand covered hers and squeezed it. She felt the so familiar curves and lines of his hand, and all of a sudden, the sob she had been oppressing for what felt like ages couldn't but find its way out.
Minerva bowed her head. Ashamed of her tears she was- as she had always been ashamed- as she had led her life in shame.
But never had he cared about her shame- and perhaps it was that that bothered her the most. He loved her, she knew, and he really, really shouldn't. He was powerful, but on top of it was he good- good like no-one else had been good before him, and she was not.
She had all her life tried to do the right thing, to be a fair, honest, good person like he was- but the truth was she had terribly failed. She had kept the one thing, the one essence of her life a secret.
Even for him.
Yet his arms found their way around her still slender waist once more, and despite herself and her so obvious guilt, she hid herself in his embrace. His beard dried her tears, the soft stroke of his aged hands eased her pain as it always had. With a sigh, she leant her head against his chest. As he slowly tilted up her chin and kissed her, she did not pull back. She was not fooling him, after all, was she?
He knew she'd never marry him.
He must have understood at least that much through all of the long years she'd spent with him…
So she gave her heart that one, small treat and allowed her lips to smile through his soft pecks on her mouth.
Sometimes, yes, sometimes she wondered what would have happened to her, to them, if there had been no Tom Riddle, no Lord Voldemort in their lives. Would she, that unstained, little cheerful Minerva she had once been, then have become Mrs. Albus Dumbledore instead? Would there have been a great marriage feast- with al his friends and her friends and… And would there then have come… children through the years? Little Albus-es and little Minerva's, to slowly grow under her heart to slowly grow under her soft whispers and his tender strokes? And would they then have grown up- would there then have come children to call her grannie… to call him grandpa, children to crawl on her lap, children to come to Hogwarts once, little, black-haired and blue-eyed Gryffindors to care about?
As her green eyes met his blue ones, she knew she would never know. She would never get to know whether that path of life would have been able to bring her more happiness than her path, the path she had chosen, had offered.
Perhaps it wouldn't have.
Perhaps it just wouldn't have.
Perhaps it just was all the same, anyway- perhaps "choices" were just a dream, perhaps "crossroads" were nothing but imagination… perhaps fate was just fate, and perhaps fate's black-haired, green-eyed daughter was just doomed to life a live like she lead- well-respected, prim teacher on the other hand, ex-whore of Voldemort on the other hand.
For wasn't that exactly what she was?
A whore?
It was that thought that made her pull back- that is, pull back the three millimetres she could. Albus refused to release her, and ultimately she gave in and sighed.
"I love you, Minerva. You know I love you?"
She nodded, closed her eyes and leant her head on his chest. Not this again. Not this hell again…
"Yes. I love you too."
"Marry me."
With another, deep sigh, she shook her head, gently removed her arms from her hips and fell down on the couch.
"You know I cannot, Albus."
He sat down next to her and sighed almost equally sadly.
"I know you cannot, Minerva." he almost literally repeated her words, patting her hand in the familiar gesture that made her, again, wonder how much he really knew. He couldn't- he couldn't…
"You don't know…" came her weak reply, and with a slight smile, he shook his aged head.
"No, I don't, Minerva." he slowly, hesitatingly answered.
"I love you nonetheless."
And Minerva gladly cried on the offered shoulder.