Disclaimer: Nothing, I repeat nothing, related to Harry Potter belongs to me. Please contact Ms. Rowling and see if she'll negotiate her property rights to you.
Warning: This is, as you "might" have suspected, a rather "adventurous" fanfic. It's a bit MMAD, but if you dislike reading this kind of story, pray move on. Having said that, remaining readers, you're in for a treat.
McGonagall stormed into her chambers, shaking with rage and covered with the Marauders' latest prank: feathers and melted Honeydukes chocolates. She wrenched open her door and…Albus was sitting in her favorite chaise armchair. He looked up from reading her copy of "Transfiguration Today" and widened his welcoming smile. Chest heaving now with intense embarrassment, Minerva spoke ub a far sharper tone than she had intended.
"ALBUS PERCIVAL WULFRIC BRIAN DUMBLEDORE! What are you doing—doing in my…?"
Albus rose quickly and went to his Deputy. He had wisely decided that joking was not the right thing to do now, nor either was commenting on her ridiculous appearance.
"My dear Minerva, I came to wish you…"
"…eternal hell to me…" came a perfectly timed response.
Albus raised an eyebrow and managed not to smile.
"Happy birthday, love." Albus finished.
"…never ever, James, Sirius…how could they…wait. What did you say?" Minerva stopped speaking abruptly and gazed at Albus with her wide emerald eyes. Even her eyelashes had chocolate laced through them, Albus noted.
"Happy birthday, Minerva," Albus repeated gently. He produced a large box of Deluxe Sugar Quills (having decided she wouldn't take kindly to any more chocolates). "I daresay you have a particular proclivity for sweets." Did you really forget your own birthday?"
"My…my birthday?" Minerva repeated in a small voice.
Albus grinned at her. "Shall we celebrate together?"