/*A/N:
insert standard disclaimer here.
This is a headcannon of mine so I made it into a drabble..
*/
Minerva McGonagall did not cry at weddings. Unless there were bagpipes, apparently.
The day of Lily Evans' and James Potter's wedding was bright and clear. The white marquee erected on the grounds of Potter manor and charmingly decorated with swaths of bluebells, violets, and –of course- lilies, was breathtaking. The bride was a vision in a simple lace dress, her auburn locks cascading down her back, as she strode up the aisle to meet her uncharacteristically nervous looking messy haired groom. A wave of calm seemed to rush over James as Lily smiled up and him, and her two Gryffindors made their vows to each other, hand in hand and teary eyed. Still Minerva's eyes remained dry, though a broad smile graced her lips.
Whoops and catcalls filled the tent as the newly wedded couple kissed and, in a fit of joy, James cast his patronus to proceed them back down the aisle. Giggling, Lily did the same and her shining silver doe joined his stag. A chorus of 'aws' emitted from the guests who had never seen the pair's patronuses. McGonagall had still not shed a tear. Then she heard the pipes.
The beginning notes of 'Amazing Grace' stirred the warm early evening air. Minerva felt her chest tighten up at the sound of the music of her roots. The tune rose with high clear notes, indicative of an excellent piper, some part of her mind noted, that rang clearly through the crowd of guests as they reverently exited the tent out onto the lawns of the Potter estate. The hot, wet feeling of a tear rolling down her cheek surprised her. It was involuntary; the music was just so beautiful, so heartbreaking, so perfect.
She looked up, wiping her eyes on her emerald green sleeve, and scanned the crowd for the lone piper. No. No. It couldn't be! She almost laughed aloud at the sight. Almost. After all, she had already cried that day. That was more than enough emotion to be getting on with.
She was sipping her gilliwater and conversing happily with the editor of Transfiguration Today who had happened to be seated at her table at the reception, she felt a gentle tap on her shoulder. She looked around only to find herself staring into the slate grey eyes of one Sirius Black who was sporting a devilish grin that would not have looked out of place on peeves.
"Join for a dance Minnie?"
"Call me that again Mr. Black and you'll find yourself with a very unfortunate flee problem"
She eyed him shrewdly.
He smirked but made no move to leave.
How was it that this boy had graduated Hogwarts and still caused her more storable than her current batch of lions?
"Oh alright then Mr. Black, but on one condition.."
"Why of course ,my dear, one Kiss coming right up" he said, pulling her onto the dance floor.
She glared and he made an exaggerated gulp, his eyes twinkling.
"How is it Mr. Black, that you came to be able to play the bagpipes so exceptionally?" she asked genuinely as he led her her gracefully around the floor with the effortless grace of someone who had been trained to it as a young child.
He looked slightly taken aback at her compliment and the question but quickly recovered rapidly only to respond "My dear old mum and dad forced me to take up an instrument – perfect pureblood heir and all that rubbish- so I picked the one that I thought would annoy them the most. The twats!" He laughed.
She reached up a hand to cuff him for his language, though the upturned corners of her mouth betrayed her amusement, but he had already ducked out of her reach, twirling Marlene McKinnon into an overly exuberant waltz.
A few hours later, an inebriated Sirius brought out his pipes and treated the guests to an upbeat set of strathspeys and reels.
"For Minnie!" he declared loudly.
She flicked her wand, sending the aforementioned hex his way.
It bounced off a shield he had very clearly deliberately placed there in preparation.
She suppressed a grin.
Minerva unconsciously tapped her foot along the rhythm of the dance.
A few more hours and a few more glasses of scotch than she was willing to admit and she found herself dancing a jig alongside Emmaline Vance.
Merlin, thought Sirius, I'd have sooner thought to see Snape confessing his love for Moony. As long as I live I am never going to let the old bird forget this.