32. Fanfiction: Something More Than Love
Title: Something More Than Love
Author: Liliths_Requiem
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Minerva McGonagall, Xiomara Hooch
Pairings: Minerva McGonagall/Xiomara Hooch
Era: Grindelwald Years
Word Count: 725
Prompt: 100quills: 2. Need
“I don’t want to stand here outside your door all night begging for you to let me in Minerva,” she can hear the other woman through the wooden door; she can hear the sobs she knows Xiomara is choking on and she knows that the crack in her voice wasn’t from her lover’s laryngitis. But for some reason, Minerva refuses to move. She refuses to open the door to the six year girl dormitories and allow her heart to break a little more. She knows what she saw and she isn’t about to face it. For all her Gryffindor courage, she isn’t sure she can handle this.
Another rap on the door, followed by another frustrated sigh. “Minerva-Minnie-please. It wasn’t what you think.” She knows this is a cliché, and probably on that’s been used on every other girl in the castle a dozen or more times. But there’s something in the way her voice sounds so sincere that makes Minerva want to believe that the other girl isn’t lying. Xiomara is a Ravenclaw, and deserving of the name, but for all of her intelligence she never was capable of telling a lie. It’s comforting now, to remember that, and for a moment Minerva wants to forgive everything.
Instead, she walks across the creaky floorboards of the castle and opens the door. Both girls are crying in earnest now, something neither has ever done before in public. “Minerva…he kissed me. I didn’t…I couldn’t stop him. He’s bigger than me for the love of Morgana. What was I supposed to do?” Xiomara’s voice is pleading, fear mixed with desperation in such a beautiful way that Minerva wants to capture this pain and hold it close. If she cages this bird will Mara still know how to fly? She’s too afraid of breaking the Seeker’s spirit to try. Freedom has always been essential to their relationship, but neither had ever acted on their belief that it was an open one. Except now. Maybe.
The Scottish girl doesn’t stop the tears and the anger in her heart doesn’t recede, but a part of her believes what Xiomara is telling her, and that part of her has never been wrong before. For all of her brains, the Gryffindor is painfully prone to following her heart. So she grabs her bird and pulls her tight to her chest, allowing their hearts to beat together as the weight of that moment bears down on them. She knows these walls won’t close in, together they’re strong enough to hold up the world. “I know,” she whispers, meeting blue eyes so desperate they look like they’re about to break, “I know you’d never do that, Mara.”
And she does, or a part of her does at least. She needs to believe in them more than she’s ever needed to believe in anyone else. “I need you,” the declaration is raw and unintended, but this doesn’t make it any less true. They’ve never said I love you to each other, even though they’ve both always known that what they have stretches beyond infatuation. But needing someone means so much more than loving them. “Like air.”
Xiomara doesn’t stiffen or pull away. She doesn’t tell Minerva to stop being foolish; that they’ve never needed any one in their entire lives, they sure as hell weren’t going to start now. They both know this is what Minerva is waiting for, breath stilled until she doesn’t know when to inhale or exhale and ends up choking on her own fear. The cough ruins the moment they’ve been standing on, shattering it like the mirror Minerva through across the room earlier; the one that now lies in shards at their feet. Xiomara is startled, but recovers quickly, knowing now that she has to make a choice.
She thinks about walking away. She honestly contemplates turning her back on the fiery Gryffindor and never touching her lips or holding her hand (and her heart) ever again. But these contemplations only last a moment, and then she’s clinging to Minerva like a last chance at redemption and whispering things like “love…need…forever,” into scarlet hair. They stay like that for a long time, until the glittering shards stop dancing across the ceiling and the sun is setting in emerald eyes. Neither of them are happy, they’ve let this go too far.
Author: Liliths_Requiem
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Minerva McGonagall, Xiomara Hooch
Pairings: Minerva McGonagall/Xiomara Hooch
Era: Grindelwald Years
Word Count: 725
Prompt: 100quills: 2. Need
“I don’t want to stand here outside your door all night begging for you to let me in Minerva,” she can hear the other woman through the wooden door; she can hear the sobs she knows Xiomara is choking on and she knows that the crack in her voice wasn’t from her lover’s laryngitis. But for some reason, Minerva refuses to move. She refuses to open the door to the six year girl dormitories and allow her heart to break a little more. She knows what she saw and she isn’t about to face it. For all her Gryffindor courage, she isn’t sure she can handle this.
Another rap on the door, followed by another frustrated sigh. “Minerva-Minnie-please. It wasn’t what you think.” She knows this is a cliché, and probably on that’s been used on every other girl in the castle a dozen or more times. But there’s something in the way her voice sounds so sincere that makes Minerva want to believe that the other girl isn’t lying. Xiomara is a Ravenclaw, and deserving of the name, but for all of her intelligence she never was capable of telling a lie. It’s comforting now, to remember that, and for a moment Minerva wants to forgive everything.
Instead, she walks across the creaky floorboards of the castle and opens the door. Both girls are crying in earnest now, something neither has ever done before in public. “Minerva…he kissed me. I didn’t…I couldn’t stop him. He’s bigger than me for the love of Morgana. What was I supposed to do?” Xiomara’s voice is pleading, fear mixed with desperation in such a beautiful way that Minerva wants to capture this pain and hold it close. If she cages this bird will Mara still know how to fly? She’s too afraid of breaking the Seeker’s spirit to try. Freedom has always been essential to their relationship, but neither had ever acted on their belief that it was an open one. Except now. Maybe.
The Scottish girl doesn’t stop the tears and the anger in her heart doesn’t recede, but a part of her believes what Xiomara is telling her, and that part of her has never been wrong before. For all of her brains, the Gryffindor is painfully prone to following her heart. So she grabs her bird and pulls her tight to her chest, allowing their hearts to beat together as the weight of that moment bears down on them. She knows these walls won’t close in, together they’re strong enough to hold up the world. “I know,” she whispers, meeting blue eyes so desperate they look like they’re about to break, “I know you’d never do that, Mara.”
And she does, or a part of her does at least. She needs to believe in them more than she’s ever needed to believe in anyone else. “I need you,” the declaration is raw and unintended, but this doesn’t make it any less true. They’ve never said I love you to each other, even though they’ve both always known that what they have stretches beyond infatuation. But needing someone means so much more than loving them. “Like air.”
Xiomara doesn’t stiffen or pull away. She doesn’t tell Minerva to stop being foolish; that they’ve never needed any one in their entire lives, they sure as hell weren’t going to start now. They both know this is what Minerva is waiting for, breath stilled until she doesn’t know when to inhale or exhale and ends up choking on her own fear. The cough ruins the moment they’ve been standing on, shattering it like the mirror Minerva through across the room earlier; the one that now lies in shards at their feet. Xiomara is startled, but recovers quickly, knowing now that she has to make a choice.
She thinks about walking away. She honestly contemplates turning her back on the fiery Gryffindor and never touching her lips or holding her hand (and her heart) ever again. But these contemplations only last a moment, and then she’s clinging to Minerva like a last chance at redemption and whispering things like “love…need…forever,” into scarlet hair. They stay like that for a long time, until the glittering shards stop dancing across the ceiling and the sun is setting in emerald eyes. Neither of them are happy, they’ve let this go too far.