Fic: Chance Encounters - Seamus/Minerva

[seedee]

Title: Chance Encounters
Rating: PG13
Pairing(s): Seamus/Minerva
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: He touched her in ways she wouldn't be able to explain.
Word Count: 1700
Author's Notes: I wrote this because it might make ridicu_liz smile. She could have done it better, but I hope she'll like it anyway. The pairing asked me to take it seriously. So I tried. Love you, sunshine.



Chance Encounters
For Liz.

* * *

It started in the corridor just outside the Great Hall on the way to Madame Pomfrey. It was a brief meeting between two people going in different directions in every sense of the word. A touch of fates, she'd later call it - for better or worse.

She was walking briskly, lost in thoughts, her dark robes touching the floor, her hands folded in front of her. No one but assorted members of the staff were allowed to visit the hospital wing by direct order of the Carrows - she refused to call them 'professors', knowing that it probably would have consequences eventually, but not caring.

At the moment, she was worried about a first year that needed medical assistance. The child needed pain potions because of an 'accident' in class, and she held her head high, disobeying the order, tired of shying back from confrontations. Everyone had a limit, and hers had been reached.

The corners of her mouth twitched as she turned left, passing a large painting that said "DUMBLEDORE'S ARMY, STILL RECRUITING" in bold crimson letters. She touched it with the tips of her fingers, chuckling softly when she saw the smaller inscription beneath. "You're still just a greasy git, Snape!" In the afternoon, she'd watched the charms professor - who'd been ordered to clean the wall - throw random spells at it. She'd doubted that a 'stupify' or a 'finite' would help cleaning, but she'd refrained from commenting and had been rewarded with a secret smile from him.

A shout brought her back to the moment, and she stopped, listening closely. She heard fast footsteps coming in her direction. With a shake of her wrist she let her wand glide out of the holster she wore in the sleeve of her robe. The movement was automatic, and within less than a second she was armed and ready to face whatever came round the corner.

It was Seamus Finnigan.

He came to a skittering halt directly in front of her, panting, his face flushed, his chest heaving. "I didn't... Fuck," he cursed. "They're coming."

"Go," she said calmly.

"But you can't. They're after Gryffindors."

She nodded once and repeated, "Go."

"No, I can't. It's not safe anymore." There was concern in his eyes, and it touched her, as she'd not expected it from him.

She raised her eyebrows and gave him the look she'd given him many times over the last six and a half years.

Seamus looked at her and then made a very inelegant snorting sound. He reached out and took her hand in his larger one, raised it to his lips and kissed it softly, his eyes never leaving hers, looking at her through thick lashes. "Thank you. I will see you."

She watched him take off and disappear behind the next corner. He was gone only a moment later, as if he'd never been there. Bemused, she schooled her features, waiting for the arrival of the persecutor.

* * *

It continued after the battle.

Her robes were torn in several places, and she'd cut off the hem of her skirt mid-fight. It had been in the way and she'd needed to move fast to dodge spells and fire curses. The old twinge in her shoulder had returned, and even though the fighting had ceased more than an hour ago, her chest still hurt and she was constantly short of breath. The hand she used to cast spells was sore and numb, and she felt drained, and her body wanted nothing more than to curl up in her bed and heal - if only for a few hours. There was work to do, though.

The castle was in ruins. It was her home and her family. A tower had fallen, there were holes in the walls, part of it had burnt, part of it was contaminated with dark magic. She should grief for it, and maybe she would one day. But at that moment she hardly even noticed.

Her gaze was fixed on the line of bodies, on the endless row of impersonal sheets that covered people she'd known and loved. A part of her understood the celebration that was going on around them - the shouts and cheers - but the rest of her was disgusted. It would take time to count the losses, both her personal ones and the ones of the wizarding world.

She watched Molly Weasley touch the forehead of her dead son, her eyes dry and her gaze fixed on his still form. Farther down was Andromeda Tonks, talking to her daughter who'd never again answer. Dean Thomas was holding Andromeda's hand, and she wondered how and when the two of them had met. Lucius Malfoy was standing in a corner, his arms protectively wrapped around his wife and son. She shook her head, hardly believing the almost innocent picture.

"May I?" someone asked quietly and sat down beside her on the stairs before she could answer.

He looked as tired as she felt. His shirt was torn and she saw a wound on his side that hadn't stopped bleeding yet. She took her wand and cast a healing spell, having to concentrate hard to even manage it.

"Thank you," Seamus said. "How are you? Unhurt?"

"I'm well," she answered, "thank you."

He nodded, and in his eyes she saw a sincerity that was mirrored in her own. "What are we going to do now?" he asked.

Without thinking, she took his hand between the two of hers. "We are going to mend and start new," she answered.

He nodded again and swallowed thickly, squeezing her hand. "I saw you fight," he said. "I'm proud of being able to call myself your housemate."

"So am I, Seamus Finnigan, so am I."

She watched him struggle, suppressing a sob and not being able to hold back the tears. But he didn't break down. Instead he raised his head, unashamed and kissed the corner of her mouth. "Thank you," he said and got up. "I will see you."

* * *

She met him again in an unlikely place.

"Can I help you, Miss?" he asked.

The corners of her mouth twitched. "The acceleration charms on my broom are softening," she said, studying him. He looked well - far better than the last time she'd seen him. His hair was longer, his robes fitted him well, and a cocky, confident smile was on his face. "It's old," she continued. "Nevertheless, I want it sharp and fast."

He took the broom and looked at it appreciatively. "Nice one," he said. "A model from 1947, isn't it? How did you get your hands on it? They are expensive and impossible to find." He ran his hand down the handle almost lovingly. "In very good condition. Do you give me permission to straighten the twigs? It'll give you extra speed and control."

"Please do so." She looked around the shop. It was new in Hogsmeade, but had instantly gained an impeccable reputation. "You didn't return to Hogwarts to repeat your seventh year," she remarked.

He shook his head. "I took the NEWTs at the Ministry last summer." She knew that, she'd looked it up. "The owner of this fabulous shop gave me a job and teaches me how to repair and maintain brooms. We also make them, beautiful handcrafted pieces. If you're ever interested in something unique..." His voice trailed away and he gave her a warm grin.

"Thank you," she said, her eyes twinkling. "I think I'll keep this one for a while; I'm very fond of it."

He looked again at the broom and hummed. "It's a beauty. I'd love to take it for a ride."

She raised her eyebrows, blaming his dimples for her frivolity. It was just a broom, though; and these days it was more precious than ever to make people smile.

He cocked his head. "Would you tell me about your last year? Now, I mean. Let's go and have lunch. You haven't eaten yet, have you?" He was talking quickly, the only sign that he maybe wasn't as confident as he seemed to be.

She considered it, ready to decline out of habit. The mere idea was ridiculous. But after a moment of thinking, she couldn't see any harm. "Three Broomsticks?" she asked.

For a moment he looked startled but he caught himself quickly, almost blinding her with the smile that bloomed on his face. "It's too early for Madame Puddifoot's?"

"Seamus Finnigan," she said sternly and looked at him.

He made a strangled noise and offered his arm. "Three Broomsticks, my Lady. I am honoured." To her surprise, he sounded sincere.

She'd not thought it possible, but he was a good listener and pleasant company. His sense of humour was dry and witty, and she laughed more during those short couple of hours than she could remember doing so in the last couple of years.

"Will I see you again?" he asked when they were standing outside of the gates. He'd walked her back to Hogwarts, and it was time to say goodbye.

"I will pick up my broom next week," she answered.

"That's not what I meant," he said, his gaze not wavering.

"Why would you want to see me again?"

He shrugged, but his eyes were still fixed on her, and she saw the sunlight reflected in them. "I like spending my time with intelligent, beautiful, wickedly strong women," he said, and again, she thought he was sincere.

She shook her head. "Then you should go and find one."

He smiled at her and leaned forward. They were almost the same height, and the distance between them shrank. Instead of pulling back - she should, she was expected to - she stood still, feeling first his warm breath on her face and then his lips on her own. His kiss was chaste, and she'd almost forgot how wonderful the soft kiss of a man felt when it was given in a careful way, more question than demand.

"I thank you, Minerva," he said and cradled her face for a moment in his large hand. "And I will see you again."

I thank you, Seamus Finnigan, she thought and watched him turn around, the ghost of his kiss still lingering on her lips.

* * *

The End

Comments

[secretsolitaire.livejournal.com]

*grins* You definitely had me fooled! :-)

[vanseedee.livejournal.com]

*punches the air* :P