I've been on vacation all weekend, but as promised, here is your chapter! (notes to reviewers @ bottom)
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Chapter seven: Twenty Questions
The night came upon them quickly, too quick for that matter. After that somewhat subtle response from Minerva on the boat, not many words had been spoken between the two. Albus couldn't for the life of his figure out what had happened. Most women would have squeezed him to death if he had said that he loved them to their faces. Ah, but Minerva? She didn't know what she wanted, that much was clear. Constantly she rejected him, constantly she withheld her thoughts from him, constantly he had the urge to just scream at her and ask her what was so wrong that she couldn't tell him. It seemed hopeless, but he'd seen her again and again let her shields down as well. As a matter of fact, he almost thought he knew her better…but knowing her well was not on the agenda anytime soon.
He sighed slightly as he watched her brush out her hair for the night. He'd said they'd do something that evening, but nothing came. Albus needed to think, and he thought constantly.
Minerva had reduced to reading a book all day on her bed, leaving herself to be shut up between the wooden platform that is formally known as a door and Albus. Severus was right, he knew it; Minerva had smiled enough and laughed enough for him to finally realize the glow she accounted for when they were together.
He also had noticed her lack of personal life details however; still, nothing about her childhood, nothing about her parents, and nothing about lovers.
'Six years,' he thought slowly, 'It's been six years since she's had a boyfriend. Had it been anyone else I would call it pathetic, but Minerva? How can someone as beautiful as she not have had a boyfriend in six years? She can't have been that closed off from the real world, it's simply unethical.'
He awed slowly at the figure that stood before him. Someone as pretty as the pale skinned, long haired beauty before him could never have been that lonely, least of all in the intimate area. Her pretty face turned to see him, and she raised an eyebrow. "Is there something wrong?"
"Minerva…" he breathed, and then bowed his head, "Nevermind."
"Today was nice, I really enjoyed myself," she beamed, "I-I hope I wasn't too out of place this morning, a-about all those things."
"I think I was the one out of place," he nodded, "can I talk to you? Privately?"
She peered at him strangely for a few seconds, then nodded her head slowly. "What do you want to talk about?"
"One word."
"Which is?" she whispered.
"Trust."
"Where do you want to sit down, I would assume this is another piece of your plan to find out what those pictures were, so I would also assume that it will be quite a while before you let me out."
"The couch."
They both walked over, Albus tried his best to not invade Minerva's personal space, and they sat across from eachother. They gazed at eachother for a matter of minutes, and Albus finally spoke the first word, "Pixie wing."
A weak smile grazed Minerva's face and she looked at him awkwardly. "Do I dare ask Albus?"
"I said something, now it's your turn."
"You've got to be kidding."
"Afraid not Minerva dear; have you ever played twenty-questions?"
"Not since I was a child, and I certainly don't intend on doing it now."
He smiled inwardly at himself, this wasn't expected to be easy, but he was certainly up for the chase. "In my studies it's proven most helpful when an adult puts his or herself in the child's position. It helps them think like a child, and by doing so, creates a healthy learning environment."
"I'm not exactly your guinea pig," she smirked, "besides, I thought the subject wasn't twenty questions; it's trust."
"They fit perfectly well together. If you play this game with me, then I won't ever bother you again."
"I absolutely refuse. I didn't come here so that you could totally and completely humiliate me, not unlike you did this morning I may add. What is it that you have to say, because it is getting late, and I am ready to go to sleep in the warm bed."
"Play," he whispered.
"No."
"Yes," he reached out gently and touched her face. Her facial expression softened slightly, and her eyes met his. She's going to do it, Minerva McGonagall is going to tell me anything and everything.
"No Albus, I-I-I can't," she stuttered as his hand dropped slowly down towards her neckline and up against her ear. She was falling, quickly.
"Don't make me do something drastic."
"Which would account for what?"
"I'll kiss you if I have to."
She stared at him closely. He could have almost thought he'd seen a spark in her eyes at the comment. Had she ever considered the possibility of them becoming an item? Albus certainly had, there wasn't a doubt there, but a look of almost interest, if not confusion crossed her face.
"I'll play, but the minute you ask me something out of place, I'm leaving."
"Ahhh, Minerva, I fear you miss the objective of the game."
"Can you just ask me yes or no questions then? Or things that I can elaborate on without having to worry? Please," she almost whispered, "there are things that I would rather no one know."
"If that will make you play, then yes."
"You've got half an hour." Albus thought he could detect a slight grin on her face. Yet again she had somewhat won, he couldn't very well find out things if he didn't have a clue what to say, but there was still communication.
"Do you want to start, or me?"
"You."
He looked at her closely. She was shaking, he could see it; her body language, her eyes, her smile that had been non-existent from the mention of the game. "You and your parents didn't get along, did you?"
"No."
"Why?"
"My mother and I have different views on pretty much everything…my father died when I was nine." She looked rather nostalgic as she said it. A look of remorse crossed her face; her entire disposition seemed to fall, and her eyes looked slightly more glassy. Albus took note of this, "I'm sorry," he spoke softly.
"It's alright," her head rose and she looked more in control of herself again. "I believe it's my turn?"
"Yes," he nodded.
"What are your parents like?"
"Very nonchalant about everything; they let my brother and I have a lot of free-time, perhaps the reason why I take note to look at my surroundings and learn about them quite often. My mother is short, a bit of a controlling person when it comes to my father, and she is more often than not doing something in her garden during the year," he paused, "My father is about thirty years older than my mother; I get my red hair from him. He is also quite funny if you give him a chance, and is now retired from the ministry to which he more often than not is either in the garden watching my mother, or reading the newspaper."
She smiled slightly, "They sound like good people."
"They are. I love them both to death." Silence followed, and Albus couldn't help but stare at her rapidly falling disposition. Something about this conversation was bothering Minerva; something was violently wrong about it. "You weren't close to your parents at all, were you?"
"No. I was always a daddy's girl…until he passed away. Then I basically shut myself out from everything. Mother and I never understood eachother. I truly wish that I could speak as high as you about my parents, but there really isn't anything to praise as far as I'm concerned."
"You can't spend your whole life hating your parents over some petty arguments," he put a hand on her shoulder, "trust me, hating people isn't the way to do things."
"You don't know what my mother did to me," she shook her head slowly, "you don't know anything."
"Why won't you tell me?"
"I've never told anyone."
"You can tell me anything, I hope you know that," he sighed.
"Some things are better off untouched," she whispered. Her head seemed to bow at those depressing words.
"And yourself? By you keeping yourself locked up in this tower, you're keeping yourself untouched. Do you ever feel the need to be inspired, to imagine, to be touched somehow? By you not telling, you are keeping yourself away from the real world."
"Albus, I miss nothing from the real world. My life is at the school, and at my home. Nothing beyond that means anything," she spoke very matter-of-factly, as if there was no such thing as emotion in her world. He breathed, and spoke with a little more passion than he ought to have.
"What if I said that I've wanted to get to know you from the first moment I saw you? What if I said that because you keep yourself away from people that you have made me want you from the very first time I laid eyes on you? What if I said that you intrigue me beyond belief, and now that I've learned more about you, I need to know why you act the way you do."
"I'd say you were full of hot air."
"Maybe I am, but I at least know what I want."
A look of awe crossed her face. He'd hit a nerve, he knew it. She leaned back slightly, and stared at him; their eyes met in a cross of thunder. She breathed through her nose, a true sign of her anger. "What makes you think that I don't know what I want?"
"Because you've done nothing but hide from me this entire trip."
"How do I hide?"
"You know perfectly well the answer to that question, so it would do no good for me to answer it. Do you know what you want?" He grinned, he was going to win this conversation, she was backed into a corner, unable to do anything but speak the truth, and if she didn't, he would make her.
"As in what?"
"Here, now."
"Sleep."
"No," he shook his head, and took her hand, "tell me the truth."
It was almost entertaining watching her struggle for words. Her eyes seemed to dilate and contract at least five different times before she even took in a breath. A smile crept on Albus' lips, she didn't want to admit it; surprising wasn't the word to any means. "Well?"
She opened and closed her mouth a few times, "Did you mean, what you said earlier?" she whispered after several minutes.
"What did I say earlier?"
"That you loved me."
His face widened into a true grin. 'Surprise surprise; she heard me,' he smiled, 'shall I give her something to think about? God she looks pretty right now,' Albus' eyes crossed with hers. "Yes, I meant it with every fiber in me."
She shook her head violently, "How am I supposed to believe you?"
"That's why we're sitting here my dear. The issue, I believe, was trust."
She bent her head down, and he lifted it back up to stare at her dazzling blue eyes. "Do you trust me?"
The silence spread, but he did not let her head fall back. He continued to stare into her eyes, and breathe slowly. She responded after a manner of minutes. "I don't think I've ever trusted someone as much as I trust you right now."
He nodded, if there ever was a perfect moment, now was it. He smiled, and leaned in closer towards her. She moved back slightly, and he put his hand beneath her head. Their eyes locked, and slowly, tenderly he prodded his way into her mouth. He couldn't stop, she was right there, kissing him, and by god it felt good. Her lips were soft, they almost reminded him of rose petals, and how it feels against the skin.
Slowly, their lips disconnected, and he ran a hand down her face. Her swollen lips made him smile widely, "You're so beautiful when you let your shields down, you know that?" he whispered.
"Am I?"
"You're absolutely stunning."
They looked at eachother with dazed expressions; Minerva was the one to break the silence. "You're wrong you know."
"About what?"
"I haven't made a perfect world for myself. I'm so lonely, so utterly lonely."
"Can I fix that?" He traced a finger on her lips, and looked up into her soft eyes.
"Yes," she nodded her head, "please fix it. Please."
He shook his head slowly, and leaned into her again. She didn't resist this time, she let him kiss her, but pushed him up with her hand after a few glorious minutes. "Albus," she inhaled, "I want to take this slow…I-I-I don't want to move too fast."
He smiled and nodded, "Then maybe I should tuck you in or something?"
"That would be nice," she smiled.
"Onward to the bedroom," he laughed, and carried her into the bedroom with her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, and his arms holding her legs to the side. He tucked her beneath the covers, and planted a kiss on her forehead. "I hope tomorrow is as exciting as today."
"Me too," she nodded.
Albus left the room, and made his bed. Tonight was a good night. Tonight was a great night. She wanted him, she'd admitted it, and by the gods, he wanted her more than anything else in the world. He sighed heavily as he got under the covers. "Where's the pensieve when you need it?" he whispered, and drifted off to sleep.
A thanks to: LinZE, Window Girl, & Hermione Gardiner. Your reviews were great!
Palanfanaiel- There was your "more", as you asked! J Hopesies you likied it, I actually put thought into this one [grins]
Liz O'Brien- oh thanksies for the compliment on my characterization…now…we are slowly moving into "relationship stage" as you can plainly see by the title… Hopefully more??? J
Mini Minerva- Ahh, thank you for the sympathy, but you can see what has resulted of my bad days/weeks, and I have translated my thoughts onto this lovely contraption called a computer! :-D I won't be one to give away answers, but there is quite a definite plan for Minerva "loving" Albus in the near future, *wink,wink,nudge,nudge* Hmmm…you love Min's Attitude? :'( did I do something wrong in posting this chapter? Naw…it wont always be quite this easy.
Laura Kay- Yepsies, another sympathetic soul, but thanx for the review…I really appreciate it. And trust me, you're not the first one to read a story and not review…me being one of them for many things. Hope you keep on liking what you read!
Snickerdoodle- :-D So first Albus confesses to Minerva, and slowly but surely Minerva confesses to Albus…do I see a cycle coming along here? Hope you enjoyed the chapter.
Jestana- Yes, Albus puts his heart on the line…but the heart throbbing music has not stopped, has it! The confessions are out! The love is known! But…who are the onlookers? :-D
Evilwoman- Did you get the results you wanted? ;-) Though lacking a few certain three words it may have been…but I believe the initiative is there, what do you think?