Chapter Three
"Albus?"
Minutes had passed, but the quiet embrace of teacher and student, of friend and friend, was not yet broken, and Minerva's head- filled with confused and uncharacteristically shocked thoughts- still leant against his chest. The man had simply held her as she had cried a little- and for the first time in his life, he knew Minerva McGonagall, strong and balanced Minerva, even Minerva was in her way a very fragile creature. And young- very young indeed.
It was so very easy to mistake the girl in his arms for a woman much older than she really was, mature and wise beyond her years as Minerva certainly was- but she raised her head a little, looking into his eyes with a heart-breaking, deep sort of sadness buried in her striking green eyes. Her face was pale as it always was, but different- and the whiter sort of pale of her skin only accentuated the tearstains on her cheeks.
Softly wiping them off with a rough, yet gentle thumb, Albus tenderly shook his head as he looked down on her black-haired head.
"You are terribly young, my- my dear."
The last word had come out somewhat odd, though- and Minerva, always quick to notice things out of the ordinary, slightly narrowed her eyes as she seemed to observe him with care. She seemed to sense that only very nearly had he avoided speaking a certain word out loud- her only problem was that she did not know which word it had been.
A small frown disturbed the peace of the girl's face as she tried to read something she didn't fully understand in his clear blue eyes- and found them all of a sudden illegible.
"I- I do suppose I am."
The sudden confusion in her voice was obvious, as was his hand, gently resting against her cheek in a comforting as well as comfortable gesture.
"Minerva, I cannot express how sorry I am for what- what happened- and-"
His own clumsiness surprised him- and yet in a way, it didn't. During his relatively long life, Albus had comforted and even embraced many people who had lost loved ones- and yet somehow this was different. He had not cared as much for those people as he did for Minerva- in fact…
His own trail of thought shocked him more than he could say, as slowly Albus realized that in fact he had never in his life cared for someone the way he cared for Minerva. There was something about her which never ceased to fascinate him. He couldn't lay a finger on it, but it was there, ever-present in every word she spoke, in every blink of her eyes, in every simple, single gesture she made. He'd never questioned this feeling of his, accepting it as only natural- but all of a sudden, he did question it- and what he found was, to say the least, startling.
Did he love Minerva?
Was this, this feeling he'd had for years, then really Love- also known as what he had chased and despaired about for years, also known as what he'd accepted as impossible to find many, many years earlier?
The next moment, though, Albus didn't know what was bigger- his relief and sudden feeling of tenderness at finally realizing that he loved Minerva, or the sudden fear of his own feelings that was just as present.
She was a student- but perhaps he could have lived with that. Yet moreover, she was a seventeen year old girl who had just lost her parents and siblings to a horrible fate- a girl who was in front of what could be the start of a very complicated time in her life, a girl who'd need every single sort of support she could get- but also a girl who was vulnerable. Too vulnerable.
"Minerva- all I wanted to say was-"
"Y-yes, Professor?"
Her hand was resting atop of his now- thus taking away the last bit of self-control he still possessed. He couldn't pull away now- he couldn't leave her now, sad and lonely, without at least letting her know that there was someone left in this world who- that there was someone who- that-
"Minerva, I- you are not alone in this world. Even apart from your family, there are still people who-"
Her voice was softer than ever before as, nose nearly touching his, she slightly leant forward. He read the emotions- strange emotions, mixed emotions- in her eyes and all of a sudden found himself nothing more than mere water in the palm of her hand.
"What, Albus?"
"Who love you. I love you, Minerva. I'm sorry."
Later on, Albus would wonder many, many times whether it had been he who had initiated their first kiss after all- but deep down he always knew it had been Minerva. The way she had tentatively led her lips onto his- the way she had closed her eyes, as if in a desperate attempt to forget the sadness and remember only the joy, would remain etched against his mind forever.
Her last words were nearly inaudible as their lips parted- and yet to him, they weren't. They would never be.
"I love you too."