She waited, watching as he continued to stare at her. After what seemed like an eternity, but what was truly only a few seconds, Minerva took another step forward. "Albus?" The sound of his name seemed to jolt him out of his thoughts as the glazed look left his eyes. Shaking his head, Albus leaned forward in bed and looked at the opening in the screen just behind Minerva's shoulder. "Poppy! I think I you should get in here. Those hallucinations you were telling me about, they've started."
Minerva's eyes grew as he continued to stare at her, a loving expression plain in his expression. "But what an image," he murmured to himself. She remembered that look well, and it still made her stomach flutter. Within seconds, Minerva heard the usual bustle as Poppy swept into the room, a tray of various potions in her hands. Minerva couldn't help but wrinkle up her nose as a particularly vile smelling concoction passed under her nose.
"Ah Minerva, you're back," Poppy said in the way of greeting as she set the tray down next to Albus' bed. "Now Albus, what exactly are you seeing?" Albus didn't say a word; his eyes just darted between the nurse and the woman still standing beside his bed, shifting her weight back and forth on the balls of her feet. She looked every bit the small child who was caught with her fingers in the cookie jar.
"I believe that would be me Poppy," Minerva supplied when no answer was forthcoming. Poppy tried, but failed, to suppress the amused smirk that found its way to her face. "Ah, I see. Well," she said, straightening up and heading back toward the main ward, "I'll leave you two alone for a bit. There are some things to be discussed, no? If either of you need anything, just shout." With that she wandered back into the other room, leaving the couple alone once again.
Silence again reigned over the small space, Albus staring at Minerva was unabashed wonder, and Minerva intent on memorizing the cracks in the flagstones. A dull headache had taken up residence behind his eyes, and his mouth felt as it were full of cotton, but despite the desire to simply ignore everything and sleep, he couldn't help but stare. She was older then he remembered. The silver in her hair caught the bright afternoon light, giving the appearance of a halo, but the dark circles under her eyes made her look sick and frail. She had also lost weight, the always loose robes had become a tent on her small frame. Despite it, she was beautiful. After the initial shock and joy had worn away, the reality of the situation set in, and so did the anger.
He was the first to break the silence. "What are you doing here?"
She visibly flinched at his rough tone. The accusation and hurt was quite evident, but there was also a touch of hope buried underneath it all. That was what she clung on to. "Poppy owled me when you were brought to the infirmary. She said you were hurt badly, so I came." She felt it was best to not mention she had come to tell him off within an inch of whatever life he had left.
"So that's all it took, a near death experience and a letter from the nurse. Perhaps I should have almost died years ago. It could have saved us both some time." The sarcasm dripping from his every word cut a new wound into her already scarred heart, and she struggled to hold back the tears that were threatening to escape. He had every right to be unhappy; in his eyes, she had abandoned him. If they were going to come to any form of understanding, she would have to explain everything, but how do you explain something that you don't understand?
Albus simply watched her. Even after the years of separation, he could still read her perfectly. He didn't miss the sheen of tears in her eyes or the small clenching of her hands as they wrapped around her still trim waist protectively. He had struck a nerve, and despite the small pain this brought him, it also caused the tiniest feeling of triumph to flood his senses. She had gotten a taste of the pain he'd lived with for six long years.
"Don't say things like that Albus," she whispered quietly, "that's not even remotely funny."
"It wasn't meant to be," he replied before clearing his throat and turning to look out the window. "Who were you raving about when you came in?" The light tone and the change of topic was unexpected and threw Minerva off balance. "You transfiguration professor, Travers I believe. He botched an incantation and then left the students to fend for themselves. I was walking by when it happened, and there was a slight altercation. He quit."
Albus grunted before it turned into a cough. "Yes, well, Jeffery was an idiot, but I couldn't find anyone else to fill the position. It took me almost a year to find him. I suppose I'll have to place another add in the paper, hmm?"
Minerva's cheeks reddened at the implication, but she continued to look at him, determined to see this through. "Perhaps not," was all she said, but it certainly caught his attention.
His head snapped back in her direction, fire burning behind his blue eyes, hot and unyielding. "So, that's why you're here. You want your job back, is that it? You think you can just leave, not a word as to why, and then show up six years later and pick it all up again. I'm sorry Minerva, but life doesn't work that way!"
His words had left their mark, and Minerva was seething. In the instant, she was positive she could throttle him with her bare hands. Before she could think it through, the words were already out. "How dare you..you..arrogant, self-pitying..bastard! You think that I would come crawling back to you like some dog just for a job. I have a job; I came back for you! That's right," she screamed as he looked at her shocked. "I was coming to let you know exactly what I thought of you. It's waited six years, but after Poppy's note, it was enough. You had hurt me Albus! The one man I've loved above all else hurt me like no one else could. And what made it worse, you enjoyed it! The supposed champion of goodness in our world, enjoyed my suffering."
Minerva let out a mirthless laugh. "By all that is good in this world, I was going to make you hurt, even if was only the minutest part of my own. So, no Albus, in answer to your question, I did not come back for my job. I came back to finally let you go, hoping the pain would stop. Imagine my surprise then when I arrive."
She began pacing back and forth, her hands waving out in front of her as if swiping at an invisible pest. "I find out that, nooo, it wasn't my husband who ruined my life, it was me! I was fooled, and let someone take everything away. Is that what you want to hear Albus? I ruined it all? Well, I did. In one afternoon, I destroyed everything we had worked for. Everything," she choked out. She reached into her robes and desperately tried to wipe away the tears with his old handkerchief. It was the same one he had spent a week looking for not long after she had left.
Her eyes dried and her voice hoarse, she continued before he could form any response. "It was nothing you did Albus," she said quietly. "Please, don't think it was. The students and staff need you, not the man you've become. Get well soon; I am so sorry."
Albus watched, dumbstruck as, for the second time, his wife turned and walked out of his life. His head was pounding, his limbs throbbed, but Albus swung his legs over the edge of the bed, fighting the wave of nausea that washed over him. "Poppy, I need my pants, now!" he yelled, reaching for his spectacles.