Disclaimer: I still don't own Harry Potter things, but J.K. Rowling still does.

A/N: I'd like to thank all my reviewers, who make my day with feedback. :) I'm glad you've all said such nice things! I hope I'll be able to keep up the standards for all of you.

Fallen Lioness

Chapter 3: Messages

Lunch and dinner had been the same, the same as each other, at least. Minerva stole several glances at Albus, and once, she caught his eyes. Quickly, she looked away, of course. She didn't dare speak. Already she had regretted being bitter toward him that morning. He was attempting to be kind, like he always was, and how did she respond? With acid, she returned with acid.

Minerva wasn't truly angry with Albus. Again, it was her frosty exterior blasting to the surface, serving its sole purpose as a mask. It chilled her to know that she could be so cold, especially toward Albus. He was one of the few people who saw her for who she really was. Yet here she was, suddenly blocking his entrance into her soul. Albus Dumbledore always had a way to warm her heart – anyone's heart, really – and she built a wall to thwart him. This wasn't how she wanted to act.

A tawny owl flew up to the window of Minerva's bedroom, tapping to gain entrance. Minerva looked in its direction and made her way to let it inside. She recognized it immediately as one of the school's owls. A simple scroll of parchment was tied to its leg, which she carefully detached. She broke off a bit of a ginger newt and offered it to the owl. It accepted graciously and away it went, soaring out the window into the evening sky.

Minerva grabbed a ginger newt for herself and curled up in her favorite chair to read her letter. She nibbled the end of the cookie as she unrolled the parchment, and as soon as her eyes fell upon the writing, she knew who had sent it.

Minerva,

Are we still holding our nightly chess matches?

If not, I understand. Don't worry about sending a note; a simple appearance or lack of one will tell me the answer.

Sincerely,
Albus

Minerva's breath had caught in her throat upon reading. He asked such a simple question, such a simple request. Even after she had given him the cold shoulder all day, he still wanted to spend the evening with her. He had some nerve though; one night after crushing her romantic dreams flat, he asked to her to visit.

It seems he sincerely wants to pretend nothing happened… to remain friends, she thought wistfully, sighing. She had to admit that she wished to keep their strong friendship. She could clearly recall how fearful she was of confessing her love to Albus – certainly the loss of friendship was the most frightening risk. He was the closest person to her. She didn't want to their relationship to go down the drain, and turning down this offer might help cause that.

Reluctantly, Minerva decided to accept his proposition. Surely she was upset about what happened, but she was exactly upset with him. He must have had his reasons. Albus was probably making the best decision for himself, and she couldn't argue with that. He always did so much for others, and rarely did he ever seem to do anything for himself. Perhaps he was even looking out for her. Why give her false hope and lead her on? Albus always had pure intentions. She trusted that he had made the right choice for himself. Of course I'd like it to be different...

Things weren't different, so any logical person would be compelled to try to accept the way life was. This was the contradiction. Minerva McGonagall was an extraordinarily logical and sensible person, yet she let the emotions take over. She always dreamed of the day when Albus Dumbledore would return her love, although he was more than twice her age. Even now, she hoped he would tell her that he had made a mistake, that he had no idea what he was saying, that he truly did love her. She hoped for such far-fetched ideas that he was trying to use reverse-psychology on her – to make her believe he didn't love her, only so she'd love him more… and then he'd confess his true feelings. Curious how the effects of love could drive even the most realistic person into a fantasy world.

Sighing, Minerva slipped her feet into her shoes and made her way to the door. Just as she was about to push the portrait open, she stopped. Was she making a good decision?

I suppose the best thing to do is restore my friendship with him. What else do I have? I'll settle for friendship, she resolved. I could not bear to live without him anyway. Assuring herself that this was the best thing she could do, she pushed the portrait of Godric Gryffindor ajar. Descending the winding stone staircase, she stopped suddenly. She stood hesitantly on the stairs, debating with herself. It is too soon. Merlin, it has been less than one day! No, it is not urgent that I see Albus. I cannot let him strengthen his grip on me. I should return to my rooms. There she turned sharply and began to climb back up the stairs, only to continue to argue with herself.

"Oh, for Heaven's sake, Minerva!" she muttered and scolded herself for being so indecisive. She had always been able to easily make up her mind. Scowling, she marched down the stairwell, forcing herself to continue with her original choice.

Finally, she completed the journey to the stone gargoyle, but not without quarreling in her mind. When she became this unsure of herself, she didn't know. Now that this level of uncertainty manifested itself, she was quite irritated with herself.

She pushed these thoughts aside as she ascended the elevating staircase. Now was not the time to dwell on her psychological issues. She had to concentrate on fixing her friendship with Albus and forgetting all of her romantic feelings for him. That was the utmost priority at the moment. She knocked thrice on the door, and it opened automatically.

Albus Dumbledore looked up from his seat behind the desk and set aside his work. He offered a weak smile, very unlike his customary toothy grins. There was a foreign expression in his clear blue eyes, one that Minerva could not quite interpret. He seemed to be treading carefully in this delicate situation, striving to repair the friendship.

"Good evening," he said gently.

Minerva hesitated outside the door. Although Albus was being welcoming, she felt wary about going into the room. She associated it with heartbreak, heartache, and such unpleasant feelings.

"You may come in, Minerva," Dumbledore added after several moments when Minerva still did not enter.

"Right…of course," she answered awkwardly and stepped across the threshold. She took a seat across from Dumbledore, as she had done every night for the past several years. She had tried to have an ordinary day at Hogwarts, and this visit to Albus was certainly typical. Perhaps if she kept to her usual routine, everything would return to normal – their friendship, her state of mind.

For now, a silence fell between them. Minerva avoided his eyes. They looked so uncharacteristically melancholy and she didn't like that. However, when she caught a glimpse of his face, she noticed a hopeful glimmer in those limpid pools of blue. She could easily tell that he also wished for normalcy to be restored.

"I'll – I'll get the chessboard, I suppose," Albus said, rising. He swept over to a bookshelf against the wall, where he kept various items. One shelf housed an old set of wizarding encyclopedias; another held several whirring and spinning silver objects. The center portion was dedicated to numerous photographs, and, in the middle of all the pictures, laid the much-used chessboard.

"Then I'll clear a space on your cluttered desk," Minerva said in response, organizing the chaos of letters, notes, books, and parchment. She smiled unconsciously as she cleaned up the mess. How he managed to find anything on his desk, she didn't know. She gathered several papers from the Ministry and stacked them neatly. After tidying the majority of his desktop, she managed to uncover his favorite crimson quill, a package of lemon drops ("Ah! I was looking for those!" Albus exclaimed), and the latest issue of Modern Magical Alchemy.

Albus came back and placed the board down. He smiled, obviously delighted at the effort Minerva put into organizing his desk.

"Thank you, Minerva. You always seemed to have a natural ability to tidy any mess in a second. What would I do without you?"

Minerva grinned coyly. Albus was one of the few who could make her blush. She loved when he complimented her. She was especially glad that the uneasiness had passed so quickly. There was no way she could have held a grudge against Albus, yet she was still surprised at how quickly things seemed to have fallen into place.

"You'd be searching for hours simply to find your bags of candy," she said, and Albus chuckled.

"I must thank you doubly for that. I haven't had a lemon drop all day," he said, putting on a glum face. He offered her one, which she politely declined. "Is there anything you would like? A cup of tea, perhaps?"

"Tea would be lovely," Minerva said, pleased with the way he always knew what she liked.

"Right away, then," Albus said, conjuring a cup of tea for her and a mug of hot chocolate for himself. "Here you are, Minerva."

"Thank you," she said and took a sip. "Mmm. Yes, thank you, Albus."

"You're very welcome," he said. "Shall we begin?" He motioned toward the chessboard.

Minerva nodded.

"White moves first," she said, and the game commenced.

The nighttime hours passed quickly. During the game, the mood was light, even with the intense strategizing between turns. Conversation flowed freely, just as it always did with this dynamic duo. Grins were glued onto their faces the entire evening. It really was like nothing ever happened. The atmosphere was so comfortable and familiar that Minerva didn't even think about the previous night. The whole time she spent with him, the memory was nowhere near crossing her mind. Albus somehow always managed to make Minerva feel at ease, even content with herself – a rare feeling for her, since she was a bit of a perfectionist. Everything was just… right.

"Checkmate," Albus said simply, after making the final move with his bishop. "I do believe the score is even now, Minerva." His eyes twinkled playfully.

"Indeed," Minerva said, conceding defeat to the man. "But I'll win next time, Albus; don't you worry."

"Ah, it won't be so easy, Minerva! This barmy old codger still has a few tricks up his robes sleeve."

Minerva raised her eyebrows skeptically.

"We'll see." She rose from her chair and stretched felinely. Merlin, she had been sitting a while. She glanced at the clock. "Oh dear, it's nearly midnight! Tell me, Albus, how did we manage to play chess for five hours?"

Albus hummed thoughtfully.

"The answer is beyond me, Minerva, although I must admit that I had a very tough and clever competitor tonight. I daresay this was one of our best matches yet, very well-played, by both sides…."

"Because you won," Minerva snorted. "That's why you think that. I will agree that it was the longest in a while." She rolled her eyes.

"Perhaps that's part of my reasoning," he murmured quickly, and Minerva laughed.

"You silly old man." She shook her head. "Well, I suppose I'd better go. It's rather late, or early, depending on how you think about it. Good night, Albus."

"Good night."

Minerva smiled and slipped out the door, feeling the same high she typically got when she was with Albus. The small tranquil smile remained on her lips as she traveled back to her private quarters. She rounded several corners and walked down many corridors, all in relative darkness, the trip very similar to the previous night's. Slipping swiftly through the shadows, her smile gradually faded, as those recollections slowly leaked into her current thoughts. Why did she have to dwell on this? Just because he had that way of filling her with joy, just because he made her feel appreciated, just because he was her closest friend, just because she cared about him so much, just because she wanted to give her love to him…

"Percival Wulfric Brian," she mumbled to the guard portrait.

"Right you are!" Godric Gryffindor exclaimed all too energetically. His frame swung on its hinges to allow Minerva to pass.

"Did you think I wouldn't be?" she muttered under her breath as she stepped through the large opening. She kicked off her shoes and tossed her hat on the hat rack upon entering the room. She allowed herself to collapse onto her bed, and she stared at the ceiling, as her heart and mind battled each other. Both fired out messages to try to win over Minerva.

Love him… give it up… wait for him… move on… he's worth it… forget it… you know you care about him… Her mind was suddenly very angry at the heart's mention of knowledge. Knowing was for the brain, and it was the heart's current enemy. How dare her heart put thoughts in her mind!

"Merlin, make it stop…" she grumbled, rolling over, clutching a pillow, and wondering why love had to be so irrational.

A/N: Thanks for reading this far. I appreciate the time you've taken to put up with me, and I'd love it even more if you can provide me with ways I could improve (gently, please!) or any mistakes... I was really tired when I proofread, hah. Until the next chapter!
- Erin -