1Chapter Twelve
Minerva began delving into the library. She was now there more than she was in Albus's office. Yet very few books pertained to the Chamber of Secrets, and the ones that did referred to it as a myth, and gave no hint to what kind of monster would be held in the chamber. From there, she began studying different books about magical creatures, but so many different creatures could cause petrifaction that it was hard to know what to look for.
She was still reading weeks later, walking down the hall to Potions, when she ran into Myrtle.
"Are you still going to try out?" she asked. "I heard Gryffindor's tryouts are today at 5."
Minerva sighed. She was getting nowhere with the books she was reading, and felt she probably should get her mind off things, at least for this night. "Yeah. It's just whoever shows up, right? We didn't have to sign up?"
"No," she said cheerfully. "I'll come to cheer you on. Good luck!"
"Thanks..." she said nervously.
She made it through the rest of her classes and rushed to Dumbledore's office.
"Albus," she said, out of breath. "I'm trying out for quidditch."
He smiled. "Well good for you, my dear. A nice distraction will do wonders for you."
"I'm a little nervous," she confessed, "If you couldn't tell."
"It is a trifle obvious," he said calmly. "Here - "
Albus reached in his desk and pulled out a small vial. "This is a calming draught. It should keep you from being nervous, at least. I use it myself when I find myself too distraught to think properly."
Minerva took the bottle and downed it in one gulp. "Thank you."
He smiled, and headed over to his Pensieve. "I want to show you something."
Minerva had never seen anything from his Pensieve before, or any Pensieve for that matter, and was a trifle apprehensive. Hesitantly she walked over to him and looked inside.
The scene swirled into a quidditch pitch - Hogwarts' quidditch pitch. She leaned closer and felt herself be thrown into the swirling liquid until she was actually there, at the quidditch pitch. Dumbledore was next to her.
"Is this when you were at school?" she asked. He nodded.
"That's me, up on the broom by the Slytherin boxes."
Sure enough, a younger Albus was circling a box, chasing a tiny, fluttering snitch.
"I finally caught it, too," he said, "Gregory Shimpling and I took 3 days in that match, looking for that snitch..."
Minerva smiled and felt herself be pulled from the memory. "I do feel better now," she said. "Thank you."
He put his hand on her shoulder. "I have complete faith in you."
"I love you." She said it. It was not random, or ill-placed. It may have been the effects of the calming draught that made it so easy to say, but she didn't care. It was at that moment, that she was where she was supposed to be, what she was supposed to say...what she was supposed to do.
He put his arms around her waist and gently pulled her closer. She was at most two inches from his beautiful face. "I love you." It was so quiet that if she hadn't been so close, she wouldn't have heard it. Slowly she brought her face to his and they kissed, for what could've been forever.
She pulled away, her eyes still closed, and opened them to look at him again. That twinkle in his eye was brighter than ever, and a small smile crept up on his face.
"Good luck today."
She nodded and left, not being able to breathe properly until she was back out in the hallway, where she promptly skipped to quidditch tryouts.