Title: Lovely
Summary: Minerva is sick of watching Albus suck up to Ministry officials at a dinner they were both invited to.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. No copyright infringement is intended.
A/N: This is a little one shot I wrote randomly, a plot bunny attached itself to my leg and I couldn't shake it off until I got it onto my laptop. It's set during the early days of Tom Riddle's first rise to power.
Minerva McGonagall was seething with fury, up to her eyeballs with disgust. Her ebony strands that had been carefully coiffed into perfectly tamed waves flew gently behind her as she stormed into the otherwise silent courtyard.
She tugged irritably at the skirts of her gown, damning the muggle designer of the dress to hell with much vehemence. Her eyes were inadvertently drawn back into the sparkling banquet room from which she had just fled. It was surreal, beautiful, and so was the crowd within. It had started out as innocently as any other dinner party, a late night soiree of sorts. For the tenth time that evening, she wondered why she agreed to accompany Professor Dumbledore when he clearly had enough friends here to buoy him through the whole thing.
She snorted as she watched a trio of individually enchanting witches ganged up on her boss and friend, who looked like any man would when approached by members of the opposite sex. That was part of the reason she'd stalked out here in the first place.
Minerva had actually looked forward to tonight, she'd made the effort of dressing up and tried to be as social as she could manage. However, since she was never one for gossip, she found herself quite out of the proverbial loop amongst the other women. After several failed attempts at intelligent conversation with various witches, she opted to try talking to some of the men there.
That was an even bigger mistake than trying to wear these wretched four inch platforms... She mused as she absently sat herself on the stone fountain in the middle of the courtyard. Some of them were more content to try and feel her up rather than discuss anything important. She found herself having to slap away more than one hand throughout dinner, and not a single one of those hands belonged to Albus Dumbledore!
Whoa, down girl. No need to drag your silly school-girl crush into the equation.
She rubbed her neck with stiff fingers, closing her eyes as a cool breeze blew in her direction.The stars twinkled above, reminding her of Albus's eyes. Minerva scowled suddenly, wanting nothing more than to apparate back home to her summer cottage since it was much closer than Hogwarts. She pulled out her wand and caressed the fine wood, itching to wave it and be gone, but still she was rooted to the spot.
Why was she so cranky anyway? She had never been a social butterfly, nor had she ever been fond of these types of events. Hell, she was an admittedly simple woman, she could be happy if provided with a current issue of Transfiguration Today, a good glass of wine and one Albus to snuggle against.
A rippling of laughter drew her attention once more to the party, she scanned over the faces and spotted the one she was looking for with ease. It was impossible to miss the striking wizard with long auburn locks, stunning eyes and a stubbornly crooked nose. He was obviously too busy saying something witty, trying to schmooze with the Ministry higher-ups and succeeding quite well.
Wasn't it only a few hours ago when he'd told her he'd rather sniff a Hippogriff's fart than play politics with these power-hungy, manipulative twits? Minerva exhaled, feeling some of her wrath disappear. She knew exactly why she was angry, but she was loathe to admit it.
She made a painstaking effort tonight, for him, and everyone seemed to notice except for him. She was all alone, and not even tipsy, the alcohol not fine enough for her critical taste.
"I swear I'll never allow that stupid, old codger to take me anywhere ever again."She swore passionately.
She started when someone cleared their throat behind her.
"Now, my dear, it's not usually good for one's career when one is caught bad mouthing their employer." The words held an empty threat, but the tone of voice in which they were said was completely benign. Only one man possessed that talent with words.
She leapt to her feet, seriously regretting the sudden action because the heels she was wearing didn't seem to be able to accomodate her movement. She fell without her usual grace on her bum, that was thankfully cushioned by the several layers of her skirts.
"Damn it!" She swore violently as she felt jagged edges of the gravel poke into her. She looked up to find the infernal man laughing at her expense.
She was livid.
"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian BLOODY Dumbledore, you give me your hand this instant or I'll hex you in every way I know of!"
He promptly smothered his chuckles and helped her up onto her feet. He could not help but admire the blush that bloomed across her cheeks. Her eyes were shadowed with a darkness at which he was taken aback. She looked tired, downright exhausted, a stark change compared to the radiance she emitted when they first arrived.
In a much more sincere manner, he asked, "Minerva, are you all right?"
She almost pouted with petulance. He recognized the look, it was a rare occurrence for her to express her frustration in her face.
"I suppose. But I think I should be getting back to the school," Her eyes flashed with mutinous rage, "Unless you plan on sacking me for insubordinate behavior."
He scoffed at the idea. "Hardly, my dear. I'd say you were merely suffering from a bout of jealousy."
"I beg your pardon,Headmaster, but jealousy? It was more like a hopeless case of boredom, paired with the need to defend myself from those buffoons who call themselves men, that ruined my evening." She injected her words with half-hearted venom, the fight gone out of her like a candle in the middle of a snow storm.
"Were they being inappropriate with you Minerva?" He queried, concerned etched into his features. He laid a gentle hand on her elbow, where she stared for a moment before meeting his eyes.
"Well, it wasn't anything I couldn't handle. Although I'm sure it would have helped to charm my dress to keep unwelcome touches off."
He opened his mouth to say something, but she cut him off with a dismissive wave of her hand.
"I was being sarcastic, Albus." It was the first time she had called him by his given name the entire night.
"Anyway, I'm sorry I'm being such a spoilsport. Go back in and get us some new connections. We may need them in the future." She muttered, referring to the newest dark wizard, Lord Voldemort. He shook his head, much to her surprise.
"I've had enough of the Ministry for one evening. I'd much rather spend it with you." He admitted earnestly.
She glanced sideways at him, the motion made his breath catch. She was standing in exactly the right angle, the moonlight shining over her silhouette and giving her an even more ethereal appearance. Against her crimson silk gown, her skin was luminous and pale, her lips painted in a becoming beige color.
"What?"
He found it hard to believe that she was completely ignorant of her own beauty.
"Your face," He said, taking an unconcious step forward. She didn't back away, instead, she eyed his lips with a hunger that made him shiver in delight.
"What's wrong with it?"
He slid his arms around her dainty waist and murmured into her ear, "It's lovely."
With a pop, the two had disapparated back to their beloved castle, realizing that they didn't need to be in a room full of other people to enjoy each other's company.
A/N: Anyone who could spot the reference to "Charade" gets cookies! Please review.