A Lifetime of Valentines

Valentine's Day 1956

The winter sun shone through the windows of the Headmaster's study, dancing lightly across Albus' long hair, making it blaze like the setting sun, as he sat at his desk, with a scroll of parchment spread out in front of him. The floor around Albus was littered with crumpled balls of parchment, and more screwed up balls were strewn across his desk in frustrated disgust.

Albus' bright purple quill hovered uncertainly over the parchment, as his auburn brows knitted in concentration. He didn't normally have such problems with letters, but this one was proving exceptionally difficult.

'My Dear Minerva,' He wrote in his normal ornately curved writing, then stopped and frowned. "No... No... That won't do at all..." Albus muttered, "It's far too familiar, after all it's years since I last saw her... and she isn't mine..." Albus ran long fingers through his beard and sighed regretfully.

Albus' memories flew back to that Valentine's day all those years ago, when he had seen Minerva kissing a boy. He had thought his feelings for her would fade by now, but it seemed that the old saying about absence making the heart grow fonder was true after all. For he still harboured the same sense of loss that he had felt when her final term at Hogwarts was over, and during long lonely nights he still dreamed of her, still pictured her before his eyes. Albus' quill tumbled unnoticed from his hand, as he lost himself in memories of the bright and beautiful seventeen year old, whose intelligence and ability had rivalled his own. Of Minerva's midnight black hair that shone like ebony silk as it cascaded down her back, of her intense emerald green eyes that burned with a fierce determination and courage.

What would Minerva be like now? The last time he had seen her was at the end of school ball, when she had stunned him with her beauty, a loveliness which she had seemed completely unaware of. Compared to the other girls she had been simply dressed, unadorned, but even so she had outshone them effortlessly, and he had been unable to drag his gaze from her the entire evening.

Of course she would be different now, a grown woman. The thought both excited and terrified him. Perhaps it was best that he offer the job as Hogwart's new Transfiguration Professor to someone else? After all Minerva was over forty years his junior, and though they had been close when she was a student, and had continued to exchange letters, she would never be his, not in the way he wanted. He really should offer the job as Transfiguration Professor to someone else. Surely with time and distance his longings for her would eventually stop, his lonely dreams of her would cease at last. Albus sighed heavily, for in his heart, he knew that though Minerva would never be his, he was her's for all eternity, even though she would never know it.

And after all, she was the best candidate for the job, the only candidate really, no one else even came close. And he did miss her, perhaps they could be friends at least. They had always been close during her school years, and being friends with her would be better than nothing. Albus lifted his quill again, dipped it into the deep purple ink, and was about to continue his letter, when a movement outside his window caught his eye.

In the grounds below, Albus saw his friend Alastor Moody walking hand in hand with Poppy Pomfrey. As Albus watched, he saw Alastor draw a single red rose from his pocket, and thrust it at Poppy in an embarrassed manner. Alastor's gruff voice floated upwards on the breeze, "Didn't think you'd like it if I forgot Valentine's Day..."

Albus couldn't help but sigh longingly, as he watched his two friends kiss each other, their embrace growing closer as their kiss deepened. If only that were him holding Minerva tenderly like that, brushing her long dark hair from her face, as he bent to kiss her mouth for the first time. Albus' bright blue eyes shone with a tender light, and his face softened, as he lost himself in dreams of a love that could never be his.

The skies overhead were twilight blue, when he lifted his quill again, and began work on his letter to Minerva, the letter that would invite her back into his daily life once more.

His breath caught in his throat, as he summoned an owl, and sent the scroll on it's way. What would her response be? If she did accept, what would it be like to see her again? Albus rose softly from his chair, to stand at the window, gazing into the night skies, his eyes following the path of the small white owl.

Author's Notes

I know the dates are a little wrong in this chapter, but they fitted this way, and it's only a few months. ;) I hope you all enjoyed it anyway?

I hope to have more chapters ready later, I'm doing everything possible to tempt my inspiration out. ;)