Out of her Hands

A/N: Many thanks to Ang, my lovely beta reader. Some of the ideas I have used in this story came up during a role-playing game that we did together. So it's only fair that I mention that. Thanks to all my reviewers. Hope you like this chapter.

Chapter Two: Returning to an empty house

A man wearing royal blue dress robes limped his way up the stone path that led to the quaint cottage as a sense of relief flooded through his body. He was home. After eight months, he was home at last. Nothing had changed and for that he was grateful. He had kept this place in his mind all the months he had been away from it. He smiled as he saw that the ivy vine had finally grown up and around the archway he had made. For some time he was convinced that he had bought a vine, which would never grow, no matter how much you watered and talked to it. He stopped briefly to catch his breath before continuing up the path. He was out of condition but that was not surprising after what he had had to deal with.

Albus Dumbledore was the shadow of his former self. Everything had changed apart from his bright blue eyes but they told a story of darkness. The twinkle didn't appear as much as it used to but that was for two reasons. He had killed a man and though the man was rotten to the core, it had lasting effects on the wizard who brought about his demise. In fact, Grindelwald haunted him in his sleep because every time he closed his eyes, Albus could see the pain as the killing curse ripped through his enemies' body. The second reason for the absence of the twinkle was that he hadn't seen his beloved for eight months. He hadn't even been able to contact her while in the hospital.

He didn't know what to expect as he reached the door to his home. He hoped she was there waiting for him but he knew that was unlikely. Maybe she would be in town, getting some basic household things, or maybe she was a visiting friend. He knew that she would be shocked to see him. He had heard the rumors of his death while he had been confined to bed at the hospital. He had wanted to write to Minerva and tell her that he was well and not to worry but he hadn't. He had been bed ridden. Healers had told him that he wouldn't be able to walk again and he hadn't wanted to be a burden to her.

He knew that she would stand by him but he didn't want her to give her life away. He wanted her to have a life and not look after him for the rest of his days. He had thought his reasons were unselfish for keeping her in the dark and the right decision to make at the time. He knew that her mother had nursed her father in his later years. He had seen Mrs. McGonagall become nothing more that a caregiver. She had lost her identity as a wife to Mr. McGonagall and Minerva had often commented on it to him. She had said that her mother, though she loved her husband, found it frustrating at times and resented the fact that he had become ill. Albus didn't want Minerva to resent being with him as her mother had her father.

Perhaps, he should have written and told her he was well but not to expect him back. It would have broken her heart but at least she would have known that he was well but he hadn't thought of that then. In hindsight, that would have been the better thing to do. He hadn't even written to any of his family to put their minds at ease. If truths were told, he hadn't known what to say.

The battle that had made his name well known throughout the wizarding world was a blur. He could only remember some of it. He remembered casting the killing curse and watching Grindelwald twitch and cry out in pain. But then everything had gone black. He woke up in a white room, dressed in a white and blue hospital gown. He was told that he had been unconscious for four months and that the healers had no idea what his injuries were because they couldn't examine him properly while he was knocked out. Albus had been aware of slight tingling in his legs but when he tried to move them, he found that they would not obey his brains command to move. He had tried in vain to wiggle his toes but his efforts had been in vain. He was angry and demanded answers.

The healers did their best to answer him but they hadn't been there when he had blacked out and they didn't even know what spells had been cast. They knew it had been ancient magic curses but none of them knew much about them. Albus had asked the hospital to keep quiet about his whereabouts. He hadn't wanted the world to know where he was. He wanted to be alone and to wallow in self-pity. He couldn't walk so what was the point of life now? He would merely exist, blend in with the background and what sort of existence would that be for him?

He had moped around in bed, refusing help and blocking people out as they tried to speak to him. He didn't want their help. How did they know how he was feeling? They were able bodied and could carry on with their lives. Albus lost his life. He might as well have died and part of him wished he had. His thoughts would often drift to Minerva. He wondered what she was doing and wondered if she was missing him. He had loved her so much. She was everything he had ever searched for in a woman. She was his equal and his soul mate, the only one that really understood him. His heart had broken as he waved goodbye to her. He promised her that he would be back but he had known that promises can't always been kept.

It was the remembrance of her smile and her love that finally brought him out of his wallowing. Suddenly he felt he was ready to try and conquer his demons and not accept his situation. He had surprised everyone with his sudden turn around. He was determined and would not give up, even when his joints were causing him pain. His dedication to trying to walk paid off in three weeks and he took his first step without the aid of balancing charms and sticks. It had worn him out but it had also given him an incentive to continue. He fell to his knees several times and pulled muscles but his drive never faltered and eventually it paid off and now he was standing outside the door that led to his home. He had surprised everyone and he apologized for this defiant behaviour at the start as he had left the hospital.

He placed his hand on the doorknob and opened the door. It swung open and he made his way into the kitchen He could smell the familiar perfume of Minerva. She must have been living there still, which pleased him. He hoped she was there now. He called out to her but received no answer. His eyes were drawn to an envelope on the table. He noticed the familiar emerald green elegant writing. He reached out and picked it up. It was addressed to him and so he opened it.

Dearest Albus,

I do not know whether you will ever read this letter but I am leaving it here just in case. It has been eight months since you left me to go and bring about the downfall of that beast. I have had no word and reports are telling me that you are dead. I have tried to keep living but without you but I am lost. I can't be in this house without you.

If you are alive, why didn't you come back? Was it such a horrid thought for you to return to a woman who loved you? I searched for you but found nothing so perhaps you have died. How can I truly mourn for you if there is no body? How I can I move on knowing that maybe somewhere you are out there, dead or alive? I love you, Albus but I cannot wait for your return because it may never happen. I pray you are alive and that you are well but if not, I hope that I can bury you one day.

All my love

Minerva

Albus fell to his knees and clutched the letter and sobbed. He had lost her. He couldn't blame her, though. He hadn't kept his promise to her. He had been alive all the time and he hadn't told her. But he had his reasons but they seemed so selfish now. He had left her to mourn his rumoured death. He had ruined her life without thinking about it. How was he to ever make it up to her, if he could find her?

To be continued