Fifty Years too Late

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A/n: More fluff. basically plotless, but cute. This was meant to be a one shot, but it got late and im tired so im drawing out a little. Im thinking it will be two chapters, possibly three if im in a bad mood. As always reviews are lovely. Cheers.

Albus paced his office. Rarely in his life had he been so nervous. This was the man who had revolutionised modern magic. The man who, during his NEWTS, had invented an entirely new way of performing charms spells. This was the wizard who felt only pity for what remained of Tom Riddle. There was no one in the world like him. Yes he was the most powerful, the most respected and the wisest, but he was also still only human. Mankind can lose their hearts.

Albus had lost his. Irrevocably.

So he had decided to tell her. His silence was slowly killing him, every day he suppressed his feelings and didn't take her in his arms, he died a little. The candle that had once burned so brightly within his soul was flickering low. Without doing something, anything, it would gutter out and Albus would never be able to forgive himself for not speaking out.

He had prepared himself for her inevitable outcry. There was no possible way that she could love him back. She would want, she deserved, someone so much better than this doddering old fool. Albus was prepared for this eventuality. A love unrequited it bittersweet, but is better than no love at all. He was simply going to tell Minerva that this should, in no way, change the relationship they already shared, and while the idea may take a little getting used to, he was sure they could carry on as before, and his conscious would be clear of this terrible burden he carried alone.

He heard quick brisk steps outside his office and but didn't move to sit. This was not something that could be explained over a desk in the middle of an office. He would simply have to invite her into his sitting room. Minerva would have no objection. They often sat in there to play chess, and the room was always cheerier long after her triumphant laughter had faded.

Minerva appeared in the doorframe, and Albus sighed with content. She grew more beautiful every year, and every time he saw her he was astonished. Her midnight black hair, was as always pulled up into a tight bun (the only time he had ever seen it untied in the last thirty years he had to promptly excuse himself and go and have a cold shower and immerse himself in some obscure muggle text on the medicinal properties of aardvarks.) Ger long delicate fingers unwrapped themselves from her wand and stowed it efficiently into her sleeve, slowly raised her head and looked the headmaster straight in the eye. After staring in silence for a few moments, something she saw there seemed to amuse her, and raising an eyebrow queried

"Difficult day?"

"You could say that," he replied, just as enigmatically.

"I've had one that you would not believe. One of the first years, some relative of the Creevy brothers, like a second cousin's nephew or something. Lord knows two is enough; we'll end up with another clan like the Weasleys. Merlin help up. Oh yes, this boy, managed to turn the remainder of the class into varying levels of platypi. I have no idea how, but it was nevertheless quite and ordeal for everyone involved. I nearly had to swallow my tongue to keep from laughing!"

Albus allowed his mind to wander from the task at hand and laughed uproariously at such a ridiculous class.

"Minerva my dear," he panted in between attacks of hysteria, "you'll really have to find out how he did it, or simply take him along to the next ministry meeting. I'm sure it would cause quite a stir!"

After laughing at such an idea, Minerva quickly regained her composure and asked quietly, "Albus, has something happened to make you want to turn the entirely ministry into one of god' most bizarre creatures?"

"You mean other than the usual" he shot back

"Albus, that goes without saying," she said, eyebrow raised almost to her hairline. From experience she knew that either something quite bad had happened for albus to slander the ministry, even in front of her, or he was hiding something he didn't want her to know. Hiding behind his humour like the way a child hides behind its mother's skirt. Albus had all his defences up, and she would need to bring them down slowly.

Albus sighed. "Minerva, shall we adjourn to the sitting room. I'm afraid I don't like to take tea in my office, and Merlin knows I need a break from all of this" with a swish of his hand he indicated around his office, and audibly groaned. "I'm going to need a ton of lemon drops to even begin to sort through all of this."

"You'll manage, you always do" said Minerva, and taking his arm in hers she led him through into the sitting room, summoning a house elf as she went.