Not Yet: Chapter 7

Professor Albus Dumbledore adjusted his robes as he prepared for the door to open. There were five minutes left of their designated time together, and he made use of them while Minerva was still in the bathroom by pondering his current state of mind. That he was certainly more relaxed than he had been twelve hours ago as he had entered the room, he could not deny. They had carried out their task together and had experienced a great deal more joy than he could ever have imagined, under the circumstances. As he remembered the feeling of Minerva beneath his hands and lips, he was forced to close his eyes and reach for the chair to steady himself as the ache of his love for her hit his stomach with full force. He had shown her he loved her with all his soul, but had she understood? He had thought so at the time, and had even believed for a moment that she returned his feelings. When he heard his name on her lips at the height of her pleasure, he truly believed that she uttered it with love. But doubt had crept in during her absence in the bathroom, and he began to torture himself with possibilities.

The click of the bathroom door closing behind her brought him back to the present. There she was, her usual attire immaculate as he had come to expect from her, the long hair that he had run his fingers through pulled tight in her accustomed bun, her face set in its stern expression as if she was contemplating giving him a detention for his behaviour last night.

He held up her outer robe for her and she moved over and slipped her arms into it, the severity of her expression broken with a smile. His hands brushed against her shoulders as he helped her on with the gown, and her proximity drew from him an involuntary sigh.

She turned around to face him and placed her hands on his chest. She was smiling slightly, and his eyes were drawn to her lips. Oh to plant one last kiss…

"Are you alright, Albus?" She asked softly.

Is it time? He thought Not yet. He was about to nod and tell her he was fine, but one last thought occurred to him:

If not now then when?

He drew a deep breath, took her hands in his and pressed them tightly to his heart.


"Yes, Albus?" Her voice was a little breathless.

"Who was it you imagined last night?"

She smiled.

"The man I love." came her reply.

Damn it! he thought. Why can't I have a straight answer?

He cleared his throat and looked at the floor.



"You called my name. Several times." His voice was hardly more than a whisper.


She was more than smiling now. Her whole face was bright and her eyes sparkled as they met his again. He felt hope rise in his heart, and he clasped her hands more firmly.

"Then…is it me? Am I the man you love?"

She freed one hand from his grasp and placed it against his cheek. His breath quickened in anticipation and she felt his heart thump against the hand he still held to his chest.

"Yes!" she whispered.

He lowered his head towards her, his target her lips. He kissed her gently at first, wrapping his arms around her and pressing her tightly to him as all of his love tumbled out of him. His mind reeled with happiness as he felt her arms wrap around his neck, pulling his head towards her as she deepened the kiss. The burden was lifted, the sacrifice gladly made.

The sound of the key turning in the lock, at first merely irritating, eventually distracted him and he broke off the kiss to scowl at the door as it opened on them. A dark figure stood framed in the doorway, disgust mingled with incredulity displayed upon its features.

"Your time is up." The figure snapped. "You have completed the task and all is prepared. You can come out now."

Dumbledore growled at the figure on the other side of the threshold.

"Shut that bloody door!" He roared as Minerva giggled and rested her forehead against his chin. "We're going to need twelve more hours! We can't come out. Not Yet!"