A/N: Just a mini update for now! :-)
"Now, you will all have one hour to make yourselves beautiful, though for many, I know that will be nowhere near long enough. We will reconvene in the entrance hall." An overwhelming burst of outrage washes over the room but Albus takes it in his stride, as he does every year. "No time turners allowed. Remember, sixty minutes. Starting NOW!"
Although we all pretend for a second that we do not care, a quick glance at one another causes each of us to spring from our seats and hurtle towards the door in an odd parody of our own students leaving a lesson. Even Severus Snape, with his iron façade, slips into a stride as he leaves his seat and - as he reaches the empty corridor - he even risks a jog. It seems even the greasiest of us have their vanities.
Exactly one hour later, my foot leaves the bottom step of the Grand Staircase and makes a harsh clicking sound on the flagged stone floor that echoes around the vast room. It is empty of students for now, though I have no doubt the Weasley twins will be tiptoeing through here in the not too distant future. I see, as I move closer to the door, that I am the first here, barring Albus. My military precision pays off once more! I am always the first one; the others will follow soon.
Albus looks up as I reach him. He does not remove his eyes from mine for even a second. He is wearing his ridiculous retina-burning yellow robe and I cannot hold back a laugh.
"Are you going for the sympathy vote again?" The words slip from my mouth before I can stop them.
"Indeed. And what tactic will you be using tonight, I wonder?"
"How dare you?" I reply mockingly. "I shall be winning them over with pure charm and charisma."
"Daddy issues tactic?"
"You know me too well," I grin. Albus nods knowingly. We tumble into a contented silence, awaiting the return of the others. One by one, they file in, dressed to their very best. Well, nobody can resist a little vanity - can they? (that is exactly why it is a sin). Even I have put on my best dress: a floor-length red number with gold-detailed straps (nothing like a bit of Gryffindor patriotism) and a split up the right leg, which goes a little too far upwards - luckily, Albus has not yet noticed. Possibly a bit risqué, but I really could not care less.
Pomona positively bursts through the front doors, casting the cold in on top of us all. But she does not seem to mind about that.
"Is everybody here, yet?" she asks, almost jumping with badly contained excitement.
"All but Severus," Aurora Sinistra butts in, adjusting her not-at-all-revealing, Nun-worthy, purple robes for the sixtieth time (and counting). This comes as quite a shock to all of us; Severus may have even… dare I say it?… washed his hair!
Speculation ceases as the man himself steps up from the dungeon stairs in a shockingly clean-pressed grey pin-striped suit. However, what is more shocking than anything else, his hair is no longer the greasy curtain of black it has always been; it is slicked back neatly atop his pale head. I am not sure whether to gape or to fall about laughing.
"Well?" Suddenly his cold voice seems oddly debonair in comparison to how it does in his teaching robes. "What are you all staring at?" For an embarrassing moment, we all turn our eyes to the floor or to somebody else. I catch Albus' eye and see that he has been stifling laughter, his eyes watering with mirth. I must take the initiative, it seems.
"Are we all ready? It is just that I have a strong feeling that the Weasley twins will be on their way to the kitchens at this very moment and I should so hate to have to Obliviate them."
"Careful, Minerva, you might be taking Sybil's job if you carry on like that," Remus pipes up. I am happy to see that he decided to come along; the open air will be good for him, and he might actually meet somebody nice… stranger things have happened. Sybil, though - in her million sparkling shawls and peacock blue robes - looks horrified at the notion and clears her throat rather loudly, pushing her way towards the door.
Everybody follows suit and I am left, last to leave. As I turn to pull the doors closed, I hear creeping footsteps that stop swiftly as I face the Grand Staircase. Sure enough, there stands Fred and George Weasley wearing their usual matching cheeky grins with not even a hint of sheepishness.
"Evening, Professor," says George with a military salute.
"At ease, Mr. Weasley," I smirk back. "Just be quiet about my attire, and I shall be quiet about your regular trips to the kitchens."
"But how do you -?" Fred begins, stopping himself mid-sentence. "Of course you know." He shakes his head to himself as if the answer was obvious all along.
"Elves are dreadfully trusting, are they not? Next time I suggest the invisibility charms in your textbook." I close the doors on their cheerful faces just in time to hear their call of "nice dress, Minnie!" (they would only dare to say that through a closing door). They remind me of four young boys I had taught years ago… though I have to say, it feels like only yesterday.
"Nice dress, indeed!" I find myself muttering.