Improvising and Nostalgia

The three fifth years stood in height order before their head girl and boy.

"You can't take it! It's theft!" The tallest cried, the other two shifted uncomfortably, silently begging him to shut up.

"You can't smuggle alcohol. It's the rules." Albus said dryly, taking a long sip of straight fire whiskey, "Oh, that's good."

"You-You're mean!" the boy whined.

"Mean?" Albus chuckled darkly. "Trust me. I have no qualms with getting the Head involved and getting the you three sent off to Azkaban" his voice boomed.

Minerva crossed her arms and quickly walked past the boys to the portrait hole. She turned around so three backs were facing her as was Albus in the background.

'WHAT?' she mouthed to Albus, her eyebrows at extreme angles, 'WE CAN'T DO THAT'

Albus shrugged.

To the fifth years it looked angry. Sick of them. Tired of their presence.

To Minerva, Albus' shrug said: 'I'm...improvising?'

"Do you know what happens to pretty boys in jail?" he roared, flaying his arms out.

Minerva clapped a hand over her mouth to keep the laughter in. Her shoulders shuddered along to the beat of her stomach's tightening and relaxing.

Albus shook his head slowly. Sneaked in a little wink for Minerva.

The three doe eyed boys looked up at him. Three bottom lips were quivering like hell. Were they going to cry?

"Well." he said, finally over with his dramatic pretense.

He crossed his arms sternly, "We'll let it slide. Go to lesson."

The boys hesitated for a moment, turned around and walked to the portrait hole.

They paused there and looked anxiously at Minerva.

Trying to conceal her laughter, Minerva kept her head down but waved her hand to allow their dismissal.

"You know, I think I went too far." Albus said, his voice was relaxed and free of discipline. He was sat in front of the fireplace and flipped his goblet over. "Fill me up dear."

"You're an arsehole." Minerva nodded matter-of-factly, refilling her own and Albus' goblets. She sat down next to him, resting her back on an armchair.

"Oh Min, when did we get so old and bitter." he groaned.

"We're not even 18 yet."

"Do you remember the first day here?" he sighed mournfully. Minerva rolled her eyes.

"I remember not wanting to sit next to the kid with a very unfortunate bowl cut."

"Shut up my hair was sexy."

"Teamed with those massive horn rimmed specs you were fucking irresistible Al." she laughed, Albus shook his head in shame.

"I wrote in my diary that night, and I quote: "She's the prettiest witch I've ever seen. I'm going to marry her one day."

"That went to plan didn't it?" she scoffed, sipping from her goblet. The tips of her ears felt warmer.

"We knew nothing when we came here. All small, chubby, and dumb." Albus took a long swig of whiskey.

"The first time in the Great Hall."

"Seeing the candles for the first time..."

"Wondering 'How the hell have they done that?"

"...Now we know, and then some."

"There's nothing left for us here now is there?" she frowned.

"I guess not."

There was a long, comfortable silence as the pair examined the room. This common room that had welcomed them home for the past seven years. A room that had seen many birthdays and triumphs. It was a solace for them, each year they went back to this room taller, smarter, more attractive, more arrogant but still this room was the only unchanging part of their Hogwarts life.

Albus looked at the warm golds and oranges in the fire.

"Hey Min, how do you think they clean the chimney? It's massive."

Silence answered him.

"Hey Min, how do think the chimneys get cleaned?"

"Oh...don't know really." she muttered, looking into her goblet.

"Hey what's the matter?" his hand rested on her shoulder. She shook her head.

"It's just." Minerva said quietly, "What are going to do?"

"Well, I think we've got to eat dinner then get started on that potions ess-"

"No...that's not what I meant." she said she laughed a little. Her hands fled to her face as tears started rolling down her cheeks. "I mean...After this. School...What-What do we-"

She gave up trying to string together coherent words and immediately Albus wrapped his arms around her.

His strong, blunt friend was crying in his arms. She was crying.

"Are you crying?" Albus asked. Stating the obvious.

"No." she sniffed. Denying the obvious.

"Of course you're not." Albus smiled, "We've still got a few months in school. From now 'til then? We'll laugh, cry, drink, shag. And after that..." he paused, suddenly realizing the life plan he drew up at age twelve was not going to schedule. According to the plan he should be a quidditch star surrounded by a harem of scarcely covered girls right about now.

"I don't really know..." he laughed, "But we'll be fine. Trust me, we will."

"We-we'll still be friends." Minerva mumbled into his chest. "Yes?" she asked demanding reassurance.

"Yes." he smiled, "Who else will put up with me? Share class notes? Make sure I don't get spiked on our nights out?"

"And hold your hair back the morning after." She lifted her head up and smiled up at him.

"Damn right." he grinned, wiping away her tears.

"It's-It's the whiskey. Throws you off." Minerva shrugged, easing out of his arms. She stood up and stretched.

"Of course." he held his hand up and Minerva pulled him to his feet. He put an arm around her "Let's eat, I'm starving."

A/N

So sorry it's taken me until 2012 to update this! It's been redrafted to Hell and back. Hope you enjoyed this chapter, though it's quite casual, not much action happens. I just wanted a nice little Minerva/Albus moment.
Quite a while ago I rang up my friend and cried about how we are soon to be leaving high school. So that's how this chapter was born.

Thank you so much for reading, reviews are welcome.

I've written something a little more risque in the next chapter... so til then bye bye

~dumplingdoo x