I'll Wait For You
A cool breeze swept through the rolling meadow, causing the young flower buds to dance and bow to their wind master. Four-year-old Minerva McGonagall sat down on the lush green grass, preparing herself a crown of purple blossoms. She raised her arms to the bright sky above as the circle of flowers rose seemingly on its own volition and lowered itself gracefully upon the top of her flowing ebony hair.
"I knew it!" said a young male voice from behind her.
Turning, she met the brilliant blue eyes of a smiling boy of about her age.
"Knew what?" she asked, adjusting the flower crown upon her head.
"You're a witch!"
"Of course I am," she said, "And you're a wizard."
"How'd you know?"
"How many Muggles would know what I am?" she asked, with a hint of childlike impatience.
"You're right," he said, walking closer to Minerva.
As they were from pure-blood Wizarding families, both children knew better than to perform magic in front of Muggles or strangers in general.
"My name is Albus Dumbledore," the boy said, taking a seat on the grass beside her. "What's yours?"
"Watch what I can do," Albus said, plucking a bunch of unbosomed flowers from the ground.
Before their eyes, the buds grew into beautiful, fully developed flowers. Minerva's green eyes, which Albus likened to the color of the green grass surrounding them, danced with amusement. She sighed happily as he handed her the flowers.
"You're going to be a wonderful wizard someday, Albus," Minerva said admiringly.
The color in Albus's cheeks deepened with her compliment.
"You're pretty, Minerva," Albus replied sheepishly, to which she responded with a melodious giggle. "Will you marry me?"
Minerva's eyes widened.
"We can't get married! I'm only four-years-old!"
"Not now, silly," he said. "I meant when we get older. We can fall in love and everything."
"How do you fall in love?" she asked, crinkling her small nose. "That sounds painful."
"I don't think you actually fall. I think it's like how you feel when you miss the last step when you're going downstairs."
"Oh..." she said, still thinking that love seemed dangerous but exciting all the same. "What if our parents don't like it that we're getting married?"
"They won't care when we're older," Albus explained.
"Then I want to be older now," Minerva said with dismay.
"Me too, but my father always says that when you're young, you want to be older, and when you're old, you want to be younger. It doesn't make sense.."
"No, it doesn't," she agreed.
"But I'll wait for you, Minerva. When you're ready to get married, we can."
A smile lit up both of their innocent faces. Albus nodded.