Not Yet: Chapter 5
Albus rolled over and placed an arm over Minerva. She was crying softly, and he had been the cause of it.
"Forgive me, Minerva." He pleaded."I don't know why I couldn't…"
He did know why. He knew perfectly well why his body had failed him as he had prepared to make the final move to oneness. His mind had taken over as he had taken one last look at her eyes, half closed in anticipation. As he slid his hands between her legs to open them, her eyes had shut tight and the caresses they had shared moments before were forgotten, so that nothing but the dreadfulness of his task filled his mind. To take her against her will! I cannot do it to her…not to her…not ever.
Her sigh was notched with sobs. The clock struck half past two. They had five and a half hours left to complete their charge. In the last hour they had slid against each other's nakedness, stroking and tasting every inch of uncovered flesh, at last allowing themselves to take private pleasure in the other without guilt or shame. Each had indulged their secret fantasy of the other, touching as they had dreamed of touching, in places they had only ever imagined. But when the time had come, his courage failed him.
Whether it was the belief that she did not love him, or whether it was the fear of being forever awkward together, their friendship stained by physical intimacy that had crippled him, he could not say. Perhaps it was a combination of both. He had felt like a monster as he knelt between her legs, wondering if he had lured her to this bed by his immediate decision to volunteer himself for this requirement of the spell. A spell that could save them…could save her. "For the good of us all, I will do this." he had said, and she had sighed before agreeing too. Had he left her any choice? Would she blame him when the door opened next morning?
Her friendship was his one constant in life, his one requirement and already he had risked it. He must set right his mistake.
They lay apart, joined only by his hand on her shoulder, her back to him, her arms crossed before her, covering what she could of her nakedness.
He ran his hand from her shoulder down her arm and back again, relishing every inch of her flesh. Only a moment ago he had touched her freely. Now he was sure she flinched.
"Please Albus. Bring the sheet up. I feel exposed."
"You are exposed, Minerva." He said, drawing the sheet as far as her waist before his attention was arrested by a mark on her hip. I didn't spot that earlier. "We are naked."
She half turned to face him, angry that he should chose to make a joke of her vulnerability. He was smiling.
"So you are still there." He said. "My Minerva. My fiery friend."
She tried to scowl at the use of the name he called her when she was angry. He had given it to her after she had remarked one day that sometimes she wished her animagus form was a phoenix. She was certain that the calming effects of bursting into flames were worth the inconvenience of having to be reborn each time. The use of this name never failed to dissipate her anger, however, and he had uttered it this time with such endearment that she smiled despite herself, and he knew that he had successfully drawn her attention away from the hurt he had caused. In an attempt to keep it there, he ran his finger over the birthmark on her hip.
"You have a birthmark shaped like a butterfly in flight!" He commented.
"Yes. And you have one like a butterfly with its wings closed on your left buttock."
"Oh you found that, did you? You were very thorough."
She giggled slightly and then sighed as her troubles overtook her once more. There was a silence between them as they stared at each other.
"We must do this, Albus. We must do it together. We have no choice, and we are running out of time. It is not your burden alone. Believe me."
He put his hand to her cheek and kissed her mouth for the first time that night. It was a gentle and light kiss, the kiss of friendship, not of passion. Yet it contained every ounce of the love he felt for her.
"Yes, we must go on. But you must forgive me before we do."
She smiled. "If you will forgive me, then I shall you."
He sighed his relief and kissed her gently again.
"Perhaps…" he began what it almost killed him to say. "Perhaps you should imagine the man you love. Perhaps you should pretend that I am he."
Well that shouldn't be too hard she thought, as she nodded her agreement.
"And you? What will you pretend?" She was not sure that she was prepared for the answer. Not yet.
"I shall pretend that it is me you want."
And if it is? She wondered. But she did not have the courage to say it.