Chapter 25
AN: Hello everybody! Long time no see. Life got very busy and I fell out of the habit of writing, but I had the urge this weekend and I have put together a few new chapters as well as being inspired to push this story on. I adore this world and I want to keep playing with it. This chapter was inspired by JK backstory of Minerva/Albus that I wanted to explore further. I hope you enjoy it.
-MP-
The room was just how he had remembered it as a teenager, as a child more accurately, the large curved space with hundreds of books adorning the shelves. Rammed on in every direction and angle to fit as many on as the owner possibly could.
Each available surface had trinkets, creations, crafts taking us every inch of space the area could afford. Some exuded noises, perhaps a whirring or whistling depending on the object in question. Harry remembered the times he was left alone in this space and his curious mind would tinker and poke at whatever drew his eye, there was time that this room brought him a sense of security and safety.
Being able to return to it and share a space with one of the few adults he trusted was almost essential to him, it was so easy for him to feel scared and lost or dreading the inevitable return to the Dursley's and what he now understood to be their horrendous abuse.
Now, he was stood in that room again. His chest rising and up down at a rapid and ragged pace, each breath hurt as he tried to forcibly pull it in and give himself oxygen. Except he felt like the couldn't, his heart raced against him, the hair on body standing to attention. He tried to focus his mind elsewhere, to concentrate on why he was standing in this room in particular, but the growing panic inside him was forcing all other rationality out of its path.
He looked up toward the top of the office, past the large desk and ornate chair that was still present in the rooms current incarnation. He settled his eyes on the large towering widows which allowed light to fill the room, he tried to draw in steadier breaths, closing his eyes to focus on the sturdy ground beneath his feet.
Harry had found himself in this room again but not exactly by choice, he had been exploring the memory cabinet again, finally choosing to brave one of the taller thin phials he had been putting off. The label was smudged but he instantly recognised the loopy writing and poured it into the pensive unaware of what was coming next.
The room around him faded way, and slowly, once his feet hit the ground the walls around him filled in like ink on a page which unfortunately unveiled the location of this memory in particular- and that would be his former Headmaster's office.
Immediately he felt his heart quicken, and the panic beginning to broil within him. He didn't understand why after so many years, this feeling could creep up on him so suddenly and so strongly. But he knew he had a job to do, he had to see what was inside each of the phials even if that brought him great discomfort.
Voices sounded from further within the office drawing Harry's attention away from himself, he looked up and noticed the room seemed empty but he could definitely hear talking off to the side. He walked over in the sounds direction and saw a large portrait he was used to seeing against the door, was in fact slightly ajar. So he pulled it open further and followed the sound inside.
The portrait led into a stone tunnel, it was narrow and dark but felt strangely warm as he walked through. He wondered whether Dumbledore placed a warming charm on it to battle against the intrinsic cold the castle walls had. As he got towards the end of the tunnel, the thought that struck Harry was that he didn't remember seeing any additional tunnels or rooms on the Marauders Map. Perhaps he never paid much attention, or was Dumbledore really that skilled in keeping his private quarters hidden?
Harry made a mental note to himself to ask James for the map so he could check again, out of simple curiosity more than anything else. Then he stepped forward into the light which revealed a secondary round room, which echoed the design of the office he was standing in before.
There was a large bed against the windows to the top of the room, it was a four poster much like the Hogwarts beds he remembered from his teenage years except it was much larger and the fabric which the curtains were made from, were decorated with moons and stars against a deep navy backdrop.
Additionally, there was a small kitchen area off to Harry's right and to his left were wardrobes and finally, what the source of the sound was. As it turned out, this is where Dumbledore kept his chess set as well as other recreational activities and the sound he had followed all along was both Dumbledore and Minerva playing chess against each other.
For a moment he stood and simply watched the two adults before him, they looked much younger. Albus had some of his auburn hair, and a much smaller beard with its copper tone accentuating the sparkling blue of his eyes. Minerva, looked far younger than Harry remembered. She looked full of life and excitement as her expression focused solely on the board in front of her. He couldn't help but notice her hair was still pulled back in a characteristic bun, as well as the tell-tale dark emerald robes she was dressed in.
He smiled widely, even it was just for second as he basked in the simple moment he was witnessing between the pair. He couldn't help but feel the deep sense of longing upon seeing them, which was at odds with the panic he had been wracked with just moments before. Like much of his later teen years and early twenties, he had this constant sense of crippling loneliness and utter alarm even when trying to enjoy the easiest of moments.
The memory seemed to warp and change around him, after a few seconds of this sensation causing his stomach to churn, he realised that the pair were no longer playing chess. Instead their voices rung from the main office space, as if the memory itself now knew he was ready to bear witness to it all. Like it had rewinded itself to the beginning almost.
Both Albus and Minerva came storming in from the main section of the Headmasters office, Albus wore a determined look on his face whilst his purple robes swished loosely around his ankles. Minerva was behind, wearing emerald, she clutched her hat tightly in her hand and her head was bowed low to shield her face.
Harry took a step back from the tunnel entrance and watched closely as the two professors brisked into the room, Albus removed his wand from where it was tucked away inside of his robes and twirled It gently. The cups and teapot on the kitchen side jumped to life, steam rising from the kettle's spout and seconds later fresh hot tea poured itself into two cups, before floating to the fireplace and into their respective wizards hand.
Minerva had sat down on the sofa, her head turned away from Albus. Harry could see the blotchy red colour to her cheeks and he wondered if she had been crying. Albus quickly answered that question.
Albus was stood up, looking softly down in Minerva's direction. He held his cup of tea rather tightly, his lips parted as if he was about to speak but couldn't decide on the words to say. His eyes bounced between Minerva and random spaces around the room before he finally spoke.
"My Dear Minerva, I'm glad you've sat down. I couldn't bear to leave you in the classroom in your current…" He stopped speaking, and appeared to wince slightly at his own thoughts before they left him.
"…. Condition."
Harry understood instantly why Dumbledore was wincing, he tried to suppress a slight giggle at Dumbledore's poor ability when it came to women.
Minerva looked up and her teary eyes met Albus's. Her face swimming with a mixture of sadness and embarrassment, a quite stark presentation to Minerva's usual offerings.
"Condition?" She barked, as her eyes sparkled an intense green for a second as she fixed her expression onto Albus.
"Well… no…. not condition per say." He sighed and sat down on the chair opposite to where Minerva had sat.
"That was probably a bad choice of words, my dear."
Minerva's tight thin lips seemed to smile for a fleeting moment before she returned to sipping her tea gently.
"So, what has caused you to be upset? Not the castle I hope, I had rather thought you were doing quite well considering it is your first year as a member of teaching staff."
Without missing a beat, Minerva summoned some of her infamous courage back to her voice. "No Albus, you don't have to worry, it's not the castle. Everyone has been more than welcoming, I love teaching and I love being here it's just…."
Her voice cracked before she could finish her sentence and another round of tears leaked from her eyes, she turned quickly away and tore the handkerchief from her pocket to dab the wetness from her face.
Albus jumped up and moved to the sofa which Minerva was on, and sat himself down gently next to her. Harry could see the concern on his face, he wondered whether the pair knew there was some love between them, some connection even so early on in their friendship.
"Minerva…" He soothed. "Please, you know you can discuss anything with me. Not just as Head of this school."
She sniffled hard and wiped her nose, still choosing to avert her eyes away from Dumbledore's. "I'm sorry Albus, I should not be letting personal matters affect my performance here at Hogwarts."
"Don't be silly Minerva, we may be professors but we are still people."
Minerva turned her head back around to face Albus, her cheeks looking even more blotched than before but regardless she was hanging onto Albus's every word.
"Now, please." He gestured gently. "Tell me what's going on."
She nodded and placed the cup onto the small coffee table that was near the fireplace.
"I don't mean to sound silly…"
Albus's gave her one his playful yet scorning looks over his half-moon glasses.
"I know, I know!" She smiled lightly. "I had some news from back home about a man I had a dalliance with before I worked at the Ministry."
"A dalliance….." Mused Dumbledore with a small wink. "Go on." He ushered.
"It's silly really. I was eighteen years old and had been offered a position at The Ministry, I had only gone home for the summer before starting work officially. I only intended to spend time with family because I knew it would be some time before I'd see them again since I would be living so far away, but then I met Dougal."
Minerva's shoulders dropped as she appeared to relax into the story, a much softer expression appeared on her features causing Dumbledore to relax next to her. Pulling his feet onto the sofa, his elbow propping his head as he lost himself in Minerva's descriptions.
"He was handsome, tall with dark brown hair and eyes which a younger me couldn't resist but that wasn't really how he reeled me in. He was a lot like me in some ways, clever and funny, but could argue fiercely when fighting for something he believed in."
She picked her cup back up and quickly sipped some more of her drink, allowing it to warm herself at the same time.
"That summer was an almost perfect summer romance, we spent every moment we could afford together. As soon as he was done with the farm for the day we would spend our evenings in each other's arms. It was perfect really, well almost."
Dumbledore frowned slightly at Minerva's words. "Almost?" He asked with piqued interest.
"Well he was a muggle." She replied, with defeated edge to her voice.
Dumbledore's frown deepened further. "So?" He said, with a half-smile, a mixture of curiosity and confidence.
"You know what it's like Albus, not everybody agrees with a muggle and wizarding relationships but that wasn't my problem. He could never have been a problem…. Never."
Albus fell silent for a moment as he saw another trickle of tears trace their way down Minerva' face.
"Then what happened Min? It all sounds perfect so far."
She wiped her face with her sleeve and looked seriously at Dumbledore. She drew her legs onto the sofa similar to Albus and almost cuddled herself against the back of the sofa, she looked like she was trying to comfort herself in some way.
"He proposed to me at the end of that summer. Without thinking I said yes, I didn't need to think because there was no question, no doubt, I could have spent the rest of my life with that man."
Minerva sighed sadly.
"The problem was he's a muggle, and I was about to go and start a new life in the Ministry.
"Ahhhh…." Albus answered slowly. "So, what stopped you? From marrying him."
"I thought of my own mother." She said limply.
Albus paused, unsure on where to go next. He didn't want to pry where he shouldn't but he wanted to offer some comfort to his colleague, as anybody would when faced with somebody so upset.
"I'm sorry Albus!" Minerva blurted suddenly, another wave of embarrassment flooding her. "I shouldn't have said all of this."
She jumped up, and was immediately copied by Albus. He placed his hands around her wrists and held them gently but firmly. "Please Minerva, you do not have to be sorry."
"But you can continue if you wish."
After a moment passed she nodded and sat back down, which was again followed by Albus.
"My mother was a witch and my father a muggle. For a long time he wasn't aware of what she was, and when he found out he reacted terribly. He punished her, and then when me and my brothers were born. He punished us too. He despised magic, and I think sometimes he hated us too."
Albus reached across and placed his hand on her knee in reassurance. "I'm sorry you had to go through that Minerva."
"Thank you Albus." She replied, mustering the strongest smile she could even if the result was just a faint dance across her face. "At this point I was faced with two options, either I tell Douglas I was a witch and face the consequences, or I keep my true self hidden."
She looked into Albus's eyes, and he finished the story for her. "I can understand why you chose what you did."
Minerva nodded and resumed her story. "Now here we are, several years later and I hear from home that Dougal is getting married. I should be happy for him, but instead I just feel…."
Her voice grew small again, she looked away from Dumbledore who continued to squeeze her leg reassuringly.
"Heartbroken." He answered.
She replied, simply but resolutely. "Yes."
"I can see quite clearly why that would upset you."
Her cheeks flashed with red for a third time. "Oh goodness! She exclaimed. "I am so sorry, you stumble upon me in my office in a state and now I have gone and blabbed this whole story. I'm quite embarrassed."
"Don't be." He answered sternly.
"In fact, I have shared similar feelings of heartbreak Minerva. It can feel quite overwhelming and all encompassing, and sometimes it doesn't seem to make much sense."
"You do?" She questioned, her tears drying and her eyebrows knitting together in confusion and curiosity.
"Ohh yes." Dumbledore responded. "Many years ago before I was a professor here at Hogwarts. It was just after graduation and I returned home to see my family, but more specifically to care for my sister."
Minerva fell rapidly into a rapt silence, unused to Dumbledore speaking so candidly especially about personal matters.
"She suffered from a…. condition. So to speak."
He watched for Minerva's judgement, but when he saw none he felt spurred on to tell the rest of his story.
"A younger me was bright but ambitious to a fault, and having to care for my sister felt like a hindrance when it should have been a privilege. Disappointingly, my attention was turned elsewhere to a boy who was visiting my neighbour Bathilda."
"He was tall like me, with short blonde hair and a sharp wit. I was pulled in quickly. He was someone I could talk to because he was like me, somebody with grand ideas and a complex mind that could finally challenge my own."
Dumbledore looked away from Minerva, his eyes raking the bookshelves idly. She wasn't sure if he was aware that he had stopped talking, or perhaps he was regretting what he had said so far.
"So what happened then, with you and this boy?"
"We spent two months wrapped in each other's idea, together we were toxic and probably dangerous mix. He wanted to take the world for his own, mould it in his own vision at the cost of everybody else."
"He came at a time where I was feeling trapped and wasted, I almost resented caring for my family and tolerating my wayward brother. He gave me freedom…. Access to something much greater than I."
Albus turned back towards Minerva, his face was still and stern. Every inch of him filled with a palpable intensity.
"Then I understood the consequences of such ideals."
For a second, Minerva thought she could see the beginnings of a tear in Dumbledore's eye. The man that was normally full of strength and stability, choosing to be open and frank with her. A colleague.
"Did you two break up?" She asked. Feeling a little foolish for choosing such juvenile terms.
"You could say that." Responded Dumbledore. "I never engaged with him on that level ever again, I couldn't, not after what happened and especially for what he went onto do later on."
Minerva had heard rumours, and thought she knew the person which Dumbledore was referring too. She felt unsure whether she should ask, if she was even the right person to be doing so.
"This person?" She asked in a tentative whisper.
"Yes…." Drawled Dumbledore, more seriously than she was expecting. "You're going to ask if it's him aren't you."
Minerva hesitated, looking at her previous professor, her mentor and now colleague.
"Would you judge me if I answered?" Dumbledore replied.
Instantly Minerva spoke in reply. "No. I wouldn't"
"It was him."
"Oh Albus." Minerva breathed, she returned the gentle touch upon his arm. "You could never have known how far he would go. Not really."
He smiled briefly at his colleague. "Let's suppose you're right."
"In actuality, what I was really trying to say through this rather convoluted story. Was that I understand what it is like to want somebody we can't…. or rather shouldn't…. have in my case."
A bigger, stronger smile formed itself on Minerva's face. She felt calmer, more steady and thankful for Albus taking the time to talk to her and for listening.
"Thank you." She added gently.
Similarly, Dumbledore smiled back and before Harry could carry on listening any further to the memory the pensive was pulling him back to the light. Further and further out of the memory until he room no longer looked like Dumbledore's office, and he was back in Grimmauld Place.
The dankness and grime of its walls surrounded him, he took in a deep breath. He felt both sorry and saddened by the conversation he had just witnessed. He wondered how lonely it must be to know that you fell in love with somebody like Grindelwald, or to simply love somebody you would have to leave behind for your freedom. It was almost incomprehensible to him, and then he felt the tugging in his chest. The need to be next to Ginny, and he knew once he was home he would be holding her extra tight as he fell asleep. Thankful for every moment with her.
-MP-
