Alastor (madeyeo) wrote in secret_chamber,

  • Mood:

In the Gryffindor Common Room, Monday Morning as promised....

Alastor is sitting on one of the chairs in the corner, looking out the window. Hogwarts Castle is gradually falling into springtime--the squid in the lake is moving restlessly in one corner of the lake; the birds are singing and the trees are in full bloom.

After sitting still for a moment, Alastor jumps to his feet to pace. He opens and closes his hands a few times, as if to regain circulation; he walks back and forth, glancing up every time someone comes down the stairs.

She said Monday morning, she said now... She never answered back whether or not she would meet me here, but surely she wouldn't just--just forget about it and ignore me? He runs a hand nervously through his already-tousled hair, taking a deep breath that shakes just a little. Right, Alastor, calm down--calm down. She's going to get here. She's going to show. She--she just got over a very tramatic weekend, and she's probably just winding down or something, I mean she got back last night but that doesn't mean a thing, she just needs some time--

What am I gettting so upset about anyway? It's just breakfast for God's sake.
He jams his hands into his pockets, turning back to the window.

After a beat he sinks back down into the chair again, head in hands. God, I wish she'd get DOWN HERE. This is driving me crazy.

Just then, he heard footsteps on the stairs, and turned around sharply. Was it her?
  • Post a new comment


    Comments allowed for members only

    Anonymous comments are disabled in this journal

    default userpic
Minerva gave a last glance around her room, grabbing her bag for class. All of her books were neatly stacked, her desk cleared, the bed made, the drapes pushed to the sides of the windows to let in the tremulous sunshine of spring.

He's meeting me for breakfast. She smiled weakly, try to let herself be happy for a moment. We'll have breakfast, and then go to class. And that's it. Sighing, she closed her door and started down the stairs to the common room.

Walking down the two short flights was nothing out of the ordinary. Maybe it was because she was in a hurry, maybe it was because she was preoccupied with other thoughts, or maybe it was just because she was now viewing the world a little differently. But whatever it was, she didn't notice the cat sitting at the corner, on the short turn three steps above the common room floor. Coming down the stairs at a half-run is never really a good idea anyways, but with a cat there as well...

She saw the cat too late, as she was stepping on and over it, as it screeched and tried to scamper out of the way. She screamed as well, surprised, and threw out her hands to break the fall that she instinctively knew was going to be nasty.


Alastor turned just in time to hear the cat's sharp yowl split the quiet air of the common room like a siren. Puzzled, he glanced toward the stairs--he had heard footsteps, hadn't he?--only to hear the cat's ringing screech followed by a scream from a girl.

Minvera McGonagall came hurtling down the stairs, falling straight to the floor. Alastor reacted despite his surprise, jumping to his feet and running across the room to her. "Minerva?"

He knelt down beside of her, hands hovering over her still form for a moment--uh, uhm, what do I do?--before finally just deciding and gently taking her into his arms. "M-Minerva?"

The cat rushed down the stairs, hissing and spitting as it passed.
She sat there, trembling and white, for a moment. She felt Moody pick her up and cradle her, heard him calling her name. He sounds a little scared? she wondered, as a headache started to creep in. Scared? For me?

She opened her eyes to see a very concerned Alastor holding her. "Where's my wand?" she suddenly asked. "If I've broken it, my parents won't be happy." She struggled with her tangled robes, patting her pockets and reaching for the scattered contents of her bag. "Oh, God, if anything's happened to it..." She reached around Moody, feeling the carpet behind him for it, and leaning against him in the process. She looked over his shoulder, practically cheek to cheek with him. "I think you may be sitting on it, Alastor."

She turned her face, practically bumping noses with him.
Alastor could feel her wand--yes, he was sitting on it--but he hadn't noticed mostly because in manuvering around for her wand, Minerva had pressed herself closer and closer against him. Now they were cheek-to-cheek--he could feel the warmth of her skin, hot against his; then she was turning to look at him, and their noses brushed, and before he really knew what he was doing, he raised silly Minerva McGonagall, the Ice Bitch of Gryffindor House, into a kiss.

He held her there and didn't notice if she protested or tried to squirm away. All that he was aware of was that he was kissing her, and in some way, nothing else mattered right then. Her wand was poking him in the ass, she was all tangled around him and anyone could come down the stairs to see what all the noise and fuss had been--but none of that mattered.

Alastor pressed Minerva against him and held out the kiss.
Her eyes grew wide, as Alastor pulled her closer and kissed her. He's...

She felt her hand raise to his face, and she sighed on the inside. First kiss...I'm sitting at the bottom of the stairs, kissing Alastor Moody... She stopped thinking, and melted against him.

They sat there for a minute, completely involved in each other.

"Alastor..." she whispered, pulling slightly away. "We're in plain sight." Ahe stroked his cheek. "Where people can see us. Where people can see us and say things." She leaned her forehead against his. "And you're still sitting on my wand."

Alastor hardly registered what she was saying. The feeling of her hand against his cheek was almost hypnotic; he was aware that he was smiling a sort of vauge, far-away smile. I kissed her...

Then his ears heard her words. He looked around, suddenly quite furtive; the common room seemed to be empty, but you never did know... And her wand; God, he was probably crushing it! Quickly he lept to his feet, seizing the wand and proferring it to her. "Uh, h-here," he said, clearing his throat and suddenly quite aware of how clumsy his voice sounded. "I mean, here. Your--ah--your wand."

Oh God, I kissed her... What had been almost a matter of pride a few seconds before was quickly becoming one of near fear. She was okay with it, I think. She didn't--didn't slap me, she took it pretty well, she seemed happy...

He turned toward her and smiled awkwardly, offering her a hand up. "Well. Uh. You, uh, you okay?"
She looked up at him from the floor. She accepted her wand, and grabbed the few things on the floor that she hadn't managed to put into her bag before. She watched a variety of emotions cross his face; she saw embarressment, caution and fear flash in his eyes before he managed to contain them.

"You, uh, you okay?" he asked, and offered a hand up. She took it, and he brought her up so that they were toe to toe, and very close. She blushed slightly and lowered her eyes. She wasn't quite sure what to do. She always knew what to do. It was a weird feeling, not being sure of herself. But that could also be because her heart was racing slightly, her wrist hurt from when she fell, and the headache was starting to worsen. "Y-yes. I'm fine..." She looked at right wrist, and noticed that it was red and beginning to swell. "I think I may have sprained my wrist." She looked up to him. "Do you know the medical spell to fix sprained joints?" she asked. "I'd do it myself, but it's my wand hand."

She reached into her bag, to pull out the text that contained the spell, preparing to teach it to Moody in the likely case that he didn't know it. "If you can take care of this, we won't even miss breakfast."
Alastor watched Minerva's face carefully as she took his hand, before realize just how close they were--nearly touching noses, again. He jumped slightly and took a small step back, still scanning her face for any sign of--what? What was he looking for, exactly?

Maybe a sign of...what she thought? What she was thinking? He could see a blush starting on her cheeks, watched her drop her eyes to study their toes that were nearly pressed against each other.

As she held up her wrist to him with a quizzical look--"I think I may have sprained my wrist"--he remembered her fall with a start. "Oh! God, uh, yeah--yeah, I can fix that," and he fumbled for his own wand. It had been in his pocket not a second ago, but now it wasn't there; what had he done with it--oh, THERE it was, in his other pocket. He drew it out quickly, held it over her slightly swollen wrist, and muttered, "Carpus Reparo."

Stuffing his wand back into his pocket, Alastor shot Minerva an awakward smile. "Uh. That takes care of it, and if you're still hungry after the spill that you took"--never mind the kiss--oh, God...--"then we can be off."

He tried another smile and offered her his arm. "That is, if you and your formally sprained wrist are feeling up to it."
Huh, he did know it, after all. He never ceases to surprise me...

"Breakfast would be wonderful," she smiled and wished that the awkwardness that was growing would stop. Something's wrong...he's unsure about the kiss, isn't he? Oh Merlin, what to say, what to do...

She took his arm, smiling up at him. Don't think, just do. "Alastor..." He looked down at her, and she swallowed nervously. "Thank you. For...for keeping up a correspondence with me, for letting me vent and be scared. I just..I just wanted you to know that it really helped, having someone to talk to, over these last few weeks. And that I couldn't have asked for a better friend."

She paused as they stepped through the portait hole to the outside corridor. Standing on the ledge that seperated the commom room from the hallway, she was slightly taller than him. She looked down into his face as he gently swung her to the floor, her robes flaring around them as she touched the ground.

Oh, what the hell. She raised her hand to caress his cheek. "I mean it, Moody. Thank you." Raising to her tiptoes she pressed her lips to his, hoping that she wasn't being too forward.
Alastor could feel the palipatable awkwardness, high in the air, and swallowed. He felt her take his arm, glanced down at her as she started to speak... A better friend?

They reached the portrait hole; he swung her gracefully down. No sooner had her feet touched the floor, and she was touching his face, smoothing his cheek, and then--and then SHE was kissing HIM. Alastor knew that his eyes widened in slight surprise at the contact, but then his surprise ebbed into the pleasure of the kiss again. He raised a hand to her cheek, brushed against it lightly as they pressed against each other; his other hand crept to the small of her back. As they stood there in the corridor, completely involved in each other, Alastor felt all thoughts drift from his mind once again.

The kiss broke; they drew away from each other. Alastor could see Minerva smiling up at him--he tried a smile back at her, but felt it falter on his lips. "M-Minerva. Before we--before we, do--go-- I have to know something. What--what is this? I mean, I know that"--he waved his hands vaugely, aware that the discomfort was arising again--"was a kiss, and all, and--well, our second, really, in the past few minutes."

He took a deep breath, glanced toward the blank wall to his left, away from Minerva's face. "But I want to know, what I--I mean, what you--what you're feeling. I mean, I don't..." He sighed, slumped his shoulders a little. Moody, what's happened to you? If anyone could see you now, they'd swear you were losing your nerve...acting all shy and soppy about a girl... "I don't know. I have an idea, but I don't know, and--I don't...I know how I feel. And it unnerves me a bit, and maybe--" He bit his lip. "What do you feel?"
She watched his eyes darting around her like scared minnows.

What? What did I do wrong? HE kissed me first? I mean, doesn't that mean that he likes me? Or something? She held off panic as she listened to him fumble for words.

"I--I'm honestly not sure." She looked down at her sensible black loafers, how they contrasted with her white knee socks. "I feel...that I've gotten to know you fairly well over the last month or so. And in doing so, I've found that you're not the person I thought you were. That you're--you really are a nice person. Whom I just might like. Quite a bit."
She nervously bit her lip, afraid that she was going to start crying. Don't cry, there's no reason to cry. He's not rebuking me, he's got to be as confused as I am.

"What--I don't know what kind of answer you're looking for, really. I just--I just thought that....well, that since you kissed me first, that....that--it would alright to kiss you. And I guess--I dunno--I mean..." She glanced up quickly, seeing a watery image of Alastor Moody looking at her, watching her response.

"What about you? What do you feel?"
Alastor ran a hand through his hair, thoroughly mussing it. "I know," he said, biting down on his lower lip again, "I mean, I know I kissed you first. And--and it was all right. For you. To kiss me, too." It was okay--more than okay. It was unexpected but nice. You can admit that in your head, Moody--why can't you say it to her?

He held up his hands, as if to admit surrender. "Look. I'm sorry, I've probably confused you... I just--I don't know what to think myself right now. What you said, about having gotten to know me--the same's true for me, about you. You're quite a different person than I thought you were, Minerva McGonagall." A smile touched the corners of his mouth, softened his face a little; he stretched out a hand to brush a loose hair away from her forehead with gentle fingers. "You're far different than the simple portrait I'd painted for you in my head--more vibrant, with colors and feelings and...just so much more."

Alastor smiled at her again, winding the stray hairs around his finger in a curl, letting it fall again. "It was all right for you to kiss me," he said after a moment, "since I think it was all right for me to kiss you. At least, I think so. This is--this is all so different from what I'm used to," and as he said this, he realized that he was talking more than perhaps he ought to, and telling her things about himself that he normally kept fairly guarded and put away, locked up--but everyone reaches out to some one at some point, right? Except he had sworn that he wouldn't, that he would keep himself above that, and neutral, and... And here he was, telling Minerva McGonagall nearly everything about himself.

"It's new," he said, shaking off his thoughts. "All of this is--and I'm not exactly comfortable with that yet. But I do know," and Alastor took a deep breath, "I know that I wanted to kiss you back in the common room. And I did kiss you, and I--" He scratched the back of his neck, looking toward the ceiling, "and I liked it. And you kissed me, too, and I liked that too. And, I know that I like you too. I liked you before the--before the kisses, but I still like you. I like you quite--quite a bit. So."

He stuffed his hands into his pockets, and rocked back onto his heels. "So," he said again, looking away across the floor. "So there's that. That's--that's what I feel."
She tilted her head to the side. "I think-" She took a breath to reassure herself. "I think that perhaps we should go down to breakfast, before every last bit of it is gone. And then go to class. And then-" And then what? We'll sit down together at lunch and talk about this like civilized businessfolk? This is....well, I don't know what it is , but I do know what it isn't. And it isn't a business. She looked up at him, wishing that the answers would just pop into her head.

"And then we'll...think of something then." Congradulations, Minerva. You've just won the prize for dumbest thing ever to say to someone that's just kissed you and proclaimed that he likes you. She wanted to take back the past few seconds to think of something better to say. "I mean - um, that...we, I guess, or something, about--stuff. And, yeah." She couldn't believe how inarticulate and stupid she must be sounding. Why don't just cut your tongue out now, and save yourself from some embaressment? She blushed and looked down at her shoes again. A little cheeky voice popped up unbidden: Yes, but without that tongue, it would be a little harder to kiss him, wouldn't it? She blushed even further at the thought.

Feeling the sudden urge to hide her very pink face, she turned to check the portait hole to make sure that Fat Lady's frame was in place, which earned her a slight reproving glance from her and a soft "Ahem" was heard. Minerva blushed, realizing that the protective portrait had seen everything, and grabbed Alastor's hand, dragging him away from the entrance with a muttered "Let's go, before we give her anything else to gossip about. Portrait news travels fast, and we've already given enough that the castle will be a-buzz about the Gryffindor prefect and the resident rebel before 10 a.m."
Alastor looked over his shoulder, as Minerva dragged him away. The Fat Lady was still watching them in a highly disapproving way, her expression speaking volumes. Minerva was right; come the afternoon and neither of them would get a moment's peace, not with all the gossip that would soon circulate the castle. He gave a mighty sigh, resigning himself to his fate--even as they passed by, the other paintings were already glancing at them and whispering to each other.

Minerva wasn't saying very much, but marching along with a determined gleam in her eye. She had Alastor by the wrist and was tugging him along, like an errant child that she had caught in the midst of some mischief or another. For a moment, he smiled at her back, the determined glimmer to her eyes and the way her jaw was set--she was all buisness.

Talk? What was there to talk about? Well, they had to sort the whole matter out, for one, and figure out...what they were going to do, he supposed. Although he didn't really know--he didn't really seem to know anything at the moment. He felt entirely adrift and completely clueless, which was not a feeling that he relished at all. He could tell Minerva was nervous, as well, and somehow that made him even more nervous--in some way, if she didn't know what to do, than no one did, he privately felt.

They were nearly to the Great Hall now; he could hear the babble of voices from within. If the Fat Lady hadn't spread the word down to the first floor by now, they might be able to eat in relitave solace, but if she had... Alastor tightened his fingers around Minerva's hand, stopping her in her tracks. "Hey. Minerva. Listen, we... When we go in there, they might have already heard the Fat Lady's news. I'm just, preparing you, and all," he said hastilly, before she could reply. "I mean, I wouldn't want to tarnish that flawless reputation of yours, or anything." He gave her a bitter little grin. "Just so you know."

He shook his wrist loose from her grasp and opened the heavy wooden door of the Great Hall for her. "Anyway, I wouldn't want to be lead in there," he said, as lightly as he could manage. "They might start saying I'm whipped before we even begin." Begin what? the little voice at the back of his head asked, but he shook it away. "After you."
"Thank you." Minerva walked through the doorway, into the Great Hall. She paused for a split second, quickly scanning the room and gauging the reactions of her peers and fellow students.

As she and Moody moved towards the Gryffindor table, the room quieted and open stares were given. MInerva began to blush a little. It's not so unusual for a boy and girl to walk into breakfast together...

That damned little voice returned: It's not so usual for Minerva McGonagall and Alastor Moody to walk into the Great Hall together. It's not usual for the portraits to be talking about the two of you tangled in a passionate heap at the bottom of the girls' dormitory stairs, and it's certainly not usual for the two of you kissing!

Alastor offered her his hand, silently, to assist her over the bench to sit down. "Thanks," she murmered, as he sat down next to her and poured her some pumpkin juice. She reached for the kippers and eggs, placing some on her plate and offered them to Alastor. "I think that the gossip's hit." She took a sip of the juice. "And I don't think that this is going to be pretty."