They sat up talking until the wee hours of the morning, long after the Pevensies had gone to bed.

"Digs, I can't help but feel as though we should try to go back," Polly said suddenly, breaking a long silence, "This may be our chance!"

The Professor smiled sadly, knowing that she'd probably suggest something like that sooner or later. In truth, he loved her for it but he was fighting a war within himself; one side said that it was unrealistic to think that they would be able to return to Narnia through the wardrobe. The other side refused to stop hoping.

"You won't be disappointed?" he asked cautiously.

She looked at the floor, "Of course, I will be. But if we don't...

"I know, I know," he agreed, "I couldn't live with myself either. I just don't want you-"

"Digs, I'm a grown woman. You don't need-"

His soft smile stopped her mid-sentence.

"Then lead the way, old girl."

Arriving in the spare room, they stopped and stared at it for several long minutes, remembering and dreaming. Knowing its history as only they did, it had never been an ordinary wardrobe, but now...

"Oh, Digs," Polly murmured clasping her hands together, "Just think if…"

"I know," he whispered, barely breathing as a boyish recklessness seized him again, "You ready to see?"

She nodded, swallowing hard, "Hold my hand."

"Of course."

Together they walked forward and Digory pulled the door open. Then they stepped inside and stretched out their hands.

Polly drew in a sharp breath as their hands touched the solid smooth wooden backboards and fought to keep her disappointment in check. Digory found her hand in the darkness, "It's okay to cry, Polly. I know I am."

"Why?" she asked, her voice breaking, "Why, doesn't He let us go back?"

"I don't know," he answered softly, "I don't know."

"Do you think He's mad at us?" she asked, dismayed, "for bringing Jadis there?"

"No," he answered fiercely, tightening his grip on her hand, "You know better. He saved my mother, remember?"

"Yes, yes, of course," she nodded, "I'm sorry, Digs. I'm just-it doesn't seem fair!"

"That's alright; I know. But remember what the kids-I mean," he chuckled, "their majesties, said."

"He is not a tame Lion," they quoted together.

"But He is good," Digory finished, reminding them, then added, "I guess He just expects us to be content to know that her evil has ended and Narnia is now a peaceful, happy, thriving land."

"His grace knows no bounds," she realized, "I think that He wanted us to know what happened because He chose them to come, instead of someone that we'd never meet."

"Bless Him for that generosity," he answered.

Suddenly, there was a sound on the other side of the door and they turned to find Lucy staring up at them, a candle in her hand; her eyes were earnest and hopeful.

"Is it there?" she asked eagerly.

"I'm afraid not, your majesty," he answered, inclining his head towards her; Polly followed suite with a small curtsy.

Lucy smiled at their gesture, not vainly, but softly. It reminded her that Aslan had crowned her a queen.

"Do you think that we'll ever get back?" she asked anxiously.

"I believe so," Digory answered, without hesitation, surprising himself. He felt Polly tighten her grip on his hand, startled as she was.

"It's true," he continued, "that your Aunt Polly and I haven't been allowed to go back, but I just feel like you all will...someday. I don't know why, but I do."

"Although," he cautioned with a sudden twinkle in his eyes, "it's likely to happen when you're not looking for it so you and your brothers and sister had best keep your eyes open, your majesty."

Stepping down from the wardrobe, the old friends gripped the little queen's hand. The love and admiration the three shared in that moment could only be known by those who knew their secret.

Finally, Lucy broke the silence by turning towards the door, "Shall we?"

"We shall." Digory smiled.

As they walked down the hall, Lucy continued, "Can we really call you, Aunt Polly?"

"Yes, your majesty!" the older woman beamed, "I'd be honored!"

"Good!" Lucy grinned brightly, "That pleases me."

Again, silence took over until they reached the room that she shared with Susan. Then Lucy spoke again, her voice emotional.

"You know, as we've walked along, I was thinking about what it would be like to not go back-and, frankly, I can't even imagine it. It-it hurts too much." But," she continued, looking at them with thoughtful admiring eyes, "If-if He doesn't call us back, then I hope that we can bear it as well as you have."

Author's Notes: I've spent so long on my The Tash Files story that I thought it would be fun to write a traditional Narnia story.