PART TWO: THE DATE

And then Minerva was gone, around the corner to the stairs, down the stairs to the door, to the edge of the grounds to the Three Broomsticks.

As she sat and waited for the man with the rose (she was a little early) she began to ponder whether she had done the right thing, letting her friends make a doll of her, dressing her up. With a sigh, Minerva pulled out the hair pins and re-braided her hair, using one pin to fasten it. She didn't know whether it was the fact that it was Valentine's Day, or because she had not dated in a year, or because the girls had made this man sound so wonderful, but Minerva really, really hoped he would like her.

No, she knew why she wanted this to work out, and it had nothing to do with loneliness, or the holiday, or her friends. It was because of him. Him.

For the last few years, upon being hired at Hogwarts as Deputy Headmistress and Transfiguration professor, Minerva had spent an awful lot of time with her friend and colleague, Albus Dumbledore. Last Valentine's Day, neither of them had a date so they spent the evening playing chess and chatting. The year before they had decided separately to take walks around the grounds, and met up quite by coincidence near the lake, where they decided to walk around together for awhile. The year before that, Rolanda had insisted upon throwing a party in the staff room, and Albus and Minerva spent nearly the entire time sitting in a corner watching others drink too much and act foolish. Those Valentines Days had been fun. But this year, when she ever-so-subtly inquired as to his plans, he informed her that he had a date. Later that same day her friends cornered her about a blind set up, and she agreed to give it a go.

She thought about all this as she sat there, sipping her gillywater, and she was so lost in thought she didn't even see him come in—the man with the rose that matched hers exactly. But he did enter, and spotted her, and smiling he made his way over to her table.

"Mind if I sit?" he asked, and she looked up, surprised to hear a familiar voice.

"Albus?" she asked, confused. "Where is your date?" ('I hope she stood him up!' she found herself thinking wickedly, but she pushed the thought away.)

"Well, judging by the exact color of that rose, my dear Minerva, my date is seated right here."

"Wha—what?" Suddenly she figured it out. Her friends' snickers, how they all knew this person they set her up with so very well, his likes included chess and walks and joking and sweets…All of these were little clues! Oh, how stupid of her! She felt her cheeks growing pink.

"You're my date?" She asked, standing to meet his gaze more properly.

"You didn't figure it out?" asked Albus, blue eyes twinkling.

"You are a crazy old coot!" She scolded, but she was grinning, though her blush had yet to go away.

He smiled back. "Shall we go to dinner? I have made us reservations for eight o'clock at a rather nice place…well, I think it's nice…"

"Of course we shall! Lead the way."

So he did.

After they ate, he suggested they dance, for the restaurant had a rather nice dance floor in the middle and several couples were already taking advantage of the beautiful live music. When they stood she slid off her robe and placed it on the seat. She looked up to see Albus staring at her.

"Yes?" She asked, trying to suppress a chuckle as she surveyed his expression. He was staring at her dress.

"Well, you…uh. You look, nice, Minerva, did I tell you?"

She had to laugh. "Yes, you told me, though I daresay you were looking at my face at the time."

His eyes immediately rose to met hers, and this time he blushed a little.

"Uh…yes, right." He stammered. "Shall we dance then?"

He offered his arm to her and she accepted it. "We shall."

He danced very well, she noted (she also mentally noted that he looked awfully good in blue and silver, and she was glad her friends had changed her attire, though she vaguely wondered whether her red dress clashed with his auburn beard at all. He held her a little tighter and spun her around, and she decided she didn't care whether they clashed anyway).

After dinner and dancing, the pair returned to Hogwarts and Albus asked Minerva if she wanted to join him in his chambers – to play chess, of course! She agreed to a game and minutes later the board was set up.

"Where are my manners?" Albus said, then asked Minerva whether she would like anything to drink.

"Tea, perhaps?" She answered, and followed him over to the little table where he conjured up some tea and saucers. She stood beside him and he turned around to face her.

"Do you, uh, take tea in your…that is, lemon or…anything?"

She chuckled and stepped forward. "Are you nervous about something, Professor Dumbledore?" She asked, perhaps a little suggestively.

"No! Of course not… I am merely old, and we confuse our words at times."

"I don't buy that, Albus." She took another step towards him. They were standing very close to one another now.

"Would you buy that I am dying to kiss you right now, Minerva?" He asked, and she paused.

"I wouldn't want you to die, Albus, so to avoid such tragedy, you may kiss me if you wish."

He placed a hand gently on her waist and pulled her into him, pressing his lips to hers. The kiss quickly grew in intensity, and when they broke apart he kissed her neck once and asked whether he could release her braid from it's confines. She said yes, so he did. He ran his fingers through her long, dark hair and they kissed again. This continued, truth be told, for some time before they returned to the couch and their... er... chess game.