Disclaimer: My name is J.K.Rowling and I own all of this... If you believe that you'll believe anything.
A Hideaway contest entry. A 200 word drabble about someone preparing for a trip, must include a candlestick.
When you have read this I'd love it if you would read another of my drabbles, Help Me. It's from Minerva's POV and is set a few days later.
Placing the tarnished silver candlestick beside the bed, he gazed with sorrowful eyes at the woman sleeping before him. She didn't know he was going. She had frowned questioningly when he requested she sleep in her own chambers that night, doubting he would possess the strength of mind to get up and leave her.
However, he found the urge to see her one last time too strong to fight. To trace the regal curve of her brow, to entwine his fingers in her silken, inklike tresses. Praying to Merlin he didn't wake her, he caressed the ivory flesh of her cheek. Lightly, so as not to rouse his slumbering goddess, he brushed his lips tenderly across hers. The familiar thrill engulfed him, as it had every time he kissed her in their forty years together. With final butterfly kisses to her fluttering eyelids he made his way to her door.
Glancing back, he felt his resolve weakening. It would be so easy to crawl in beside her. She would turn and nestle into his body as he enveloped her in an embrace. But he had to go…A solitary tear escaped his eye.
"Goodbye my love."
He turned…Harry would be waiting.