“I cannot accept.”
The words had a sense of finality to them as they vanished into the cool night, absorbed by the waves slapping at the boat. Minerva felt the iron bars of English society to be more claustrophobic than they had ever been as she gazed, heartbroken, into the steady eyes of her Russian prince.
Albus stood. “I understand,” he nodded stiffly. He turned away, gripping the sides of the yacht on which they stood, shoulders hunched in defeat.
“Minerva…” he whispered. “I wish it could have been different. We could have run away, we could have been happy - I’m sorry it had to end like this.” He turned, his worn face etched with defeat.
Minerva looked away. “We are both married, Albus,” she said softly. The prison of her marriage was suffocating, and the thought of returning unbearable, but oh, Robert… “I have a son. I cannot possibly - “
Her voice broke and Minerva turned away, swallowing back a sob. True love was supposed to conquer all, it was said. But what was to happen when the passion she and Albus shared was placed directly against her love for her son? Were the feelings she felt for each not both true love? It was cruel, she thought angrily. An impossible choice that would leave Minerva with a gaping hole in her chest, no matter which way she turned.
Albus moved swiftly to her side, blue eyes comforting as he took her face in his large, weathered hands. “Oh, love, do not cry for me,” he whispered roughly as he pulled her in close. “Do you recall our discussion about the wide expanse of the universe, and the multiple lives we must lead?”
Minerva let out a choked sob as she rested her head on his shoulder. “Of course,” she smiled sadly. “All of the moments we’ve shared have been precious to me. However could I possibly forget?”
The memory flashed once again through her mind, and tears welled in her eyes as the echo of Albus’s reverent voice as he described the many lives each soul in the universe could possibly live, the many ways the paths of those truly destined for each other must intertwine. The passionate waving of his hands in the air as he attempted to illustrate to a smiling Minerva the depths of his brilliant theories struck a new blow to her already shattered heart.
Curse society. Curse her loveless marriage, her noble blood, Albus’s wife, and everything else that stood between their running away and starting anew together.
They could have been together.
She would never hear that passionate, wondrous voice again.
“In one of those lives, we must have our happy ever after.” He pulled back, raising her chin to look into his smiling eyes. He put on a comforting face for her, but Minerva could see the telltale glimpse of water in those blue eyes, glimmering with waves of emotion like the ocean they resembled.
The words held little comfort. Minerva had little faith in the goodness of life, the likelihood of their souls ever meeting again. Even if they did so, who was to say it could ever truly have a happy ending? The brokenness of their story as it was now was too complete, too convincing, for Minerva to ever have hope of the stars aligning just so for their eventual happiness.
She wondered, then, if they had ever been a happy love story, or if she and Albus were doomed to end each version of their story in tragedy.
He continued. “Someday - whether a hundred years ago or a thousand years ahead - we shall see each other again, Minerva. I promise you, I will not lose you then.”
******* One Hundred and Twenty Three Years Later
Minerva McGonagall walks into the headmaster’s office. Dressed in black, she has come to prepare herself to say goodbye at Albus’ funeral. Her heels tap against the stone floor as she takes in the familiar space. The sound echoes more than she remembers, a testament to how cold and empty the room feels now he is gone.
She stops dead in her tracks as she sees the portrait. Albus Dumbledore smiles sadly at her from the prison of a painting, and what was left of Minerva’s fragmented heart shatters on the spot as she falls to her knees with a shuddering gasp.
“Please, do not cry,” the portrait says as Albus peers down at her concernedly. “Another life, my love. We were destined for each other in another life.”