Just One More

Minerva leaned against the wall of Professor Slughorn's office, sipping her butterbeer, wondering how exactly Alphard managed to convince her to come tonight.

Fairy lights were strung up along the walls, but their twinkling did nothing to improve the surroundings or the company within them. She heard Professor Slughorn's laugh across the room and slung back the rest of her drink to keep herself from cringing.

'You know, if I were old Slughorn, I'd be afraid for my life given the expression you are currently wearing,' said Alphard, who had somehow managed to sidle up next to her unnoticed.

Minerva laughed. 'I'm still not entirely sure how you managed to convince me to come to this.'

Alphard nudged her with his shoulder. 'If I remember correctly, I wasn't exactly playing fair when I asked you.'

'Oh yes, remind me not to answer any more questions when you have me pinned against a wall in a random broom closet.'

'And if it is a not so random one?'

Minerva, ignoring his last comment, asked, 'why do you put up with this crowd? It's not as if you need anything Slughorn's offering.'

Alphard shrugged. 'Just easier this way, I suppose. I'm asked fewer questions than if I didn't make an appearance.'

'Why do you care what any of them think? You don't have to answer to them.'

'Not them, my family. My cousin Lucretia has a big mouth; you don't know what I'd have to go through if either of my parents heard I didn't come tonight.'

'You're right, I don't know,' she replied, swapping her empty butterbeer bottle for a fresh one from one of the passing trays. 'But not from lack of trying, mind you.'

Alphard became intensely interested in the brocade pattern at the end of his robe's sleeve.

Minerva took a sip from her drink and waited to see if he would say anything. After a couple minutes of uncomfortable silence from him she asked, 'are you ever going to tell me about them?'

'What does it matter, Minerva?'

'You tell me, Alphard. For as long as I've known you, you've used them as a convenient excuse to explain away anything you do that you don't particularly like. You make vague comments like the one you just made. But when I ask you anything further you brush it off like it's nothing.'

'What do you want me to say? That I hate them? That I would give anything to trade my name and all that comes with it? That I wish my life was different, that everything wasn't already planned out for me?'

Minerva sighed. 'I just wish you’d tell me anything.'

Alphard ran a hand along the small of her back but she stepped away and shrugged him off.

'It's been a year, Alphard. Do you realise that? A year of dates on Hogsmeade weekends and random encounters in broom closets and empty classrooms, but when I ask you anything personal you clam up. I know nothing more about you than I did that first date.'

'That's not true,' he whispered.

'Name one thing, Alphard, one thing you've shared since we started this.'

Alphard remained quiet.

'Exactly,' she said and placing her empty bottle on the nearest table she walked out of the room. She was half way down the hall before she heard him calling after her.

'Minerva, wait -'

She spun around and found herself pinned against the dungeon wall.

'Please,' he whispered. 'I don't mean to -' he started before planting a desperate kiss on her lips.

Despite the small voice protesting in the back of her head, Minerva felt herself responding to him. He tangled one hand in her hair, while his tongue pushed past her lips and brushed against her own.

When they broke apart she looked up at him, trying to assess the expression in his cool grey eyes.

'One more chance, Minerva, please. I don't mean to shut you out. I just -'

Standing on the tips of her toes, she kissed him softly. 'One more, Alphard, but you can't keep locking me out.'

'I promise, I won't, M.'

When he kissed her again, Minerva shut her eyes and willed herself to believe.