I figured seeing as I'm not updating Forever Young until sometime next month, I should update something else, so I dug out my notes for this and got to work.

Bit of a warning, it's short.

Enjoy.

Harry sat at the low table in the library, scribbling away on a long piece of parchment under the steady gaze of Minerva. He found it great being friends with her and if he was honest with himself, he loved her very much, but when she turned in Professor McGonagall on him earlier that morning, boy did he feel like he was back in first year.

It wasn't that he was rude, or he said something that struck a nerve with her, it was just that he hadn't done his holiday assignments yet and when all her not so subtle hints flew by him, she went Professor on him and threatened him with detention if he didn't do them before the day was over. He couldn't fault her really, and it wasn't that much. Just two essays. One for Transfiguration and one for Charms.

Looking back on it now, he couldn't believe that he had missed what she was saying when she told him that she had to mark all these essays in the next week before she had to go back to Hogwarts to prepare for all the classes, and figure out what assignments she was going give out for the year.

Shaking his head, Harry looked down at the start of his Charms essay. He had finished his Transfiguration essay earlier, and when Minerva had offered to read over it, he had turned her down, saying that it would feel like cheating. Minerva had accepted this and told him to get a start on his Charms, only Harry had no idea how to start it. It took him a couple of tries, but after half an hour he was happy with the introduction paragraph and got stuck in on the rest of it.

An hour later, he looked up from his essay with a smile. He knew it wasn't the best essay he had written, but he was happy with it and that would have to do. Nodding once to himself, he piled the assignments together and tucked them into his text book before stacking them on the corner of the table. He stood up and stretched, watching Minerva read from the corner of his eye. Minutes passed as he stood there, he didn't even realize he was staring until he looked at him over the top of her glasses.

"Is there something you wanted Harry?"

Feeling blood rush into his cheeks, he sat down on the sofa. "Not really."

"Not really?" She asked, lowering the essay slightly.

Shrugging, he leant back against the sofa. "I was just wondering why you always wear your glasses." He said nonchalantly.

Giving a rather unladylike snort, Minerva smiled. "You mean besides having to wear them?"

"Well yes."

Minerva narrowed her eyes at him slightly. She knew he was a clever boy, knew it the moment she laid eyes on him on the Grand Staircase for the first time, so it didn't really surprise her that much that he knew that she didn't need them like he needed his. "When I first started teaching after the war with Grindelwald," She started quietly, "I only wore them to read, but after some time had passed and I settled into my role, I became aware of the fact that some of the older students and staff were uncomfortable with looking me in the eye."

"Why?"

She nodded absentmindedly with a small smile that disappeared when she looked at the far wall. "I asked the same thing. I was told that my eyes reminded them of the killing curse. Something I used to take pride in, gone in a second all because of the colour." She whispered, before shaking her head, once more speaking in her usual tones. "After that, I started wearing my glasses all the time."

After that, the pair sat in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Minerva of a time where she could happily walk around without having to be twice as careful not to misjudge distances and walk into the edge of things and Harry about the killing curse. He had seen it three times in his life, he knew the colour well, but looking into Minerva's eyes, he didn't see it. Her eyes were bright yes, but they weren't the eerie green that the curse was, it was more that of a forest. Vivid, but still dark. The complete opposite of the killing curse. Acting without thinking, something he known for, he stood up and stepped in front of her. Before she could react, he reached out and plucked the thin wired frames from her nose and tucked them into his pocket.

"Harry what-"

Harry shook his head. "The former students and staff were colour blind. You shouldn't have listened to them. Your eyes are incredible. Don't hide them just because of what they said."

Minerva blinked a couple of times as her vision cleared. She stared up at Harry in astonishment. "But the colour-"

"Isn't anywhere near the colour of the curse."

At the confidence and the straightforwardness of the fact, Minerva slumped back into the armchair slightly with a sigh. "You're too young to know what that curse looks like."

Harry tilted his head slightly. "Perhaps, but I do, so you'll have to trust me when I say this, your eyes are not anything like the killing curse, they are like a liquid forest." He said truthfully, looking her in the eye to make sure his point was made.

After a moment of silence, he nodded his head. "Good." Before turning around and gathering up his texts books and taking them back upstairs to his room.

In the library, Minerva let a breath. "Damn." She whispered before going to finish reading the essay in her hand, only to realize that Harry still had her glasses. "Damn."