Valentine's Day 1973

The table by the window was set for two, with two glistening crystal wine glasses, a pair of bone china plates decorated with red roses, and a single candle at the centre. The light of the flickering candle reflected off the crystal goblets, and golden flames danced across the polished wood. The clock on the mantlepiece ticked steadily onwards, as it's hands moved ever closer to midnight, and still Albus had not come.

Minerva waited in her chair by the window, her book long since discarded, dark hair flowing down her back in colours of the midnight sky. She watched as the candle burnt ever lower, and half melted wax ran down it in mournful trails. The ticking of the clock that was normally so soothing had become as loud as thunder, as it drummed out the passing seconds.

Several long hours had passed, since she had carefully laid out two crystal goblets, and lit a single candle in the centre of the table. She had done all this more in hope than expectation, for Albus had been away on missions for the Order Of The Phoenix for some weeks now. And though she had longed to go with him, to fight at his side, someone had needed to stay here, and keep the students safe, take care of the school.

Minerva felt a surge of frustration with herself - she shouldn't feel disappointed, she knew Albus was fine. There'd been an owl from him a few days ago. It was the type of message you'd send to a colleague who also happened to be a good friend, not at all the type of message you'd send your wife. Of course she knew and understood the reasons for such secrecy, and at least she knew that Albus was still alive, even if that had been three days ago now. And she knew that despite the casual tone of the message, that he had sent it with that exact intent, could feel his love behind the careful words.

That was what mattered most after all, that he was all right, that he'd come home to her eventually. Other women, some of them old friends of her's, had already lost their husbands, had already faced the knowledge that their love would never come home again.

Minerva felt sudden fear clutch at her, it had been three days, three long days. Anything could have happened to Albus in that time. What if ...No! It was a thought too terrible to think, he will come home, he has to come home! Minerva bit back the tears that threatened to fall. "He's Albus Dumbledore, the most powerful wizard there is. Of course he's going to come home." She muttered, as she tried to ignore how unconvinced of this she sounded.

Desperate for distraction she picked up the book she'd discarded earlier, strove to focus on it, then slammed it down in frustration as she found herself rereading the same meaningless words over and over again. As they had so often this long evening, her eyes strayed to the window and the dark empty grounds of the castle.

For a moment, she thought she saw a movement in the shadows, and her heart lept joyously, but no, it was just tree branches shifting in the wind.

Minerva ran a tired hand across her face, how many times had she glanced out of the window now? While her hope faded, and the candle burned ever lower, it's flame flickering weakly.

This would be their first Valentine's apart. It wasn't Albus' fault, it was this wretched war, but still it was hard to quell the disappointment. She knew without looking that the hands of the clock were inching ever closer to midnight, each tick was like an explosion in the otherwise silent room. She should go to bed, so foolish to keep sitting here, when she had classes in the morning. And yet something kept her there, in the chair by the window, as the minutes drifted sorrowfully by.

Minerva was determined not to look at the clock, it would strike midnight soon enough now, whether she looked at it or not. She stared at her clasped hands, noting how tightly they gripped each other, and examined the reflection of the flickering flame in the twin goblets, as every tick seemed to grow louder, until their regular beat beat beat was like torment to her.

Her will failed her at last, and her eyes flicked unwilling to the clock. One minute to midnight - he wasn't coming then. She should have realised that even Albus Dumbledore couldn't achieve the impossible. She shouldn't feel disappointed, shouldn't long for his company on this their special day, the day that meant so much to them both. But she did long for him, to just see and feel him if only for a moment. To just see his eyes twinkling brightly at her with that mixture of love and passion, to feel his skin warm against her's, to be held by him in a way that was both tender and strong.

Just as she reached across the table to blow out the candle, she heard or sensed a presence in the room, and spun to see a hooded figure standing tall by the fading embers of the fire. Minerva knew at once that it was Albus, even before he threw back the hood of his cloak, to reveal weary travel stained features.

At once she was on her feet, starting across the room to him, noting how his shoulders sagged in exhaustion. Before she could reach him, Albus drew a battered red rose from beneath his cloak. "Happy Valentine's day my love," He whispered, as he held it out to her with a hand that trembled with tiredness.

The rose was missing several of it's petals, and was half wilted from lack of water, but to Minerva it was the most beautiful bloom she had ever seen. "Oh Albus you shouldn't have come..." Minerva whispered, as she reached out and ran a finger tenderly across his careworn face, tracing the lines of exhaustion.

Minerva could feel the effort that it cost him, to hold his head up, and gaze into her eyes, as he answered softly, "And leave you alone on this our special day? Never." The sparkle was still there in his blue eyes, even through the exhaustion that clouded them, they still sparkled for her, as Albus drew Minerva into his arms.

For a brief moment, Minerva permitted herself to enjoy the feel of his warmth against her, to nestle against him and feel her fears fade away. Then her concerns for Albus took over, and despite his protests, she insisted on guiding him to the sofa that stood by the fire, and settling him there with a tartan blanket to cover him.

Once Albus was resting snuggly beneath the blanket, Minerva summoned a house-elf to bring cocoa and warm food, then sat softly next to her husband. An arm round his shoulder, guided his silver head to rest against her, as her other hand ran lightly across his face. "I'm so glad you safe Albus, but you didn't have to come..."

When Albus failed to answer, Minerva glanced anxiously at him, and was relieved to note that his eyes had fluttered shut, and that he was sleeping soundly, as his head rested lightly against her. Shifting slightly, she eased him into a more comfortable position, and then let him sleep on, as her fingers ran lightly through his hair. He had come home safely to her at last, and for now all the horrors of war faded, and there was only her husband held snugly in her arms, his warmth radiating into her.

Author's Notes

This one took me quite some days to write, I hope it's okay. The next chapter is half written, so hopefully the wait won't be so long. ;) The next chapter will be the one with the slightly sexy Minerva in, much to Albus' delight. ;)