A/N: First traditional pairing! YAY! Thanks very much to missradcliffe for reviewing! It totally made my day :D
And also, thanks go to Sorciere de feu who also reviewed – Happy day!
Disclaimer: JKR owns HP an' his crew, yo.
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So, pants, pants. Minerva was searching for pants. She knew they had to be in her closet somewhere, but as she needed them right at this moment she also knew that it would be no use trying to find them. And she absolutely would not help Professor Sprout in the green houses while wearing her teaching robes. They were black, wrinkle-less, and most certainly NOT for rolling around in the dirt with. Minerva sighed.
"Oh how I do wish Albus would figure out a less annoying way of telling me he wants me to meet him at his office, his stealing things has become quite the nuisance." Minerva muttered to herself, groaning as her knees cracked when she stood up, "I'm getting too old for this."
Perhaps some explanations are in order. You see, for the past week and a half Albus Dumbledore had been in a fervor dragging things out of Minerva's living space. Monday, he had taken her couch, Tuesday her rug, Wednesday her teapot, Thursday her toilet seat, Friday her earmuffs, and now finally Saturday he had went and stolen her pants. All the previous items had been returned once Minerva had gone to see him each day (the first of which she was in an outrage because she had thought some of the Slytherins had stolen her couch). And each time she had gone to see him he had made up some cockamamie reason for wanting to see her, which was odd because on the whole Albus Dumbledore was not one to jerk people around for no reason.
However, Albus Dumbledore was not jerking her around for no reason, he was jerking her around for a reason. One that is very sensible, if you are a thirteen-year-old girl. The reason was that for the past week Albus had been meaning to ask Minerva out on a date, but every time he had gotten her to meet with him he had lost his nerve and had to make up some loopy reason as to why he had wanted to see her.
But this time he would not lose his nerve, this time he was going to do it, he was going to ask Minerva McGonagal out on a date. Such was his mindset as he waited for her to appear, albeit butterflies were dancing in his stomach. This struck Dumbledore as very odd, as he had not eaten any butterflies at any point in the day, nor any point in his life for that matter.
At any rate, butterflies or not Albus would have to ask her today, as he had already reserved a table for them this evening at Madame Puddifoots.
Dumbledore was getting anxious, had Minerva even noticed her pants were missing? Should he go and steal something else? He paced around his office musing in this manner catching him quite unawares when the door burst open.
"ALBUS DUMBLEDORE!" shrieked Minerva for what seemed like the umpteenth time this week. "I have had it with your persistence in nabbing my stuff. Monday, I come here and you tell me that you stole my couch because you wanted me to see how blue the sky was through your skylight, Tuesday you tell me that I had to take a gander at the smashing rosebuds you had on your desk, Wednesday-"
But Dumbledore cut her off; it was now or never, "Minerva will you go out on a date with me tonight?"
Minerva was struck speechless, her mouth left hanging open until she shut it abruptly and nodded her agreement.
Dumbledore grinned, "I was hoping you'd agree, I already reserved a spot at Madame Puddifoot's for us about a week ago and I er…. My apologies, Minerva."
Minerva didn't know whether to smack him or giggle with absolute glee, so she chose an option in the middle of the road. "You self-assured old coot, you. I can't believe you reserved a table that early – and at Puddifoot's nonetheless! You know you could not have picked a more revoltingly sentimental place, don't you?"
Albus blushed, "Oh Minerva, if I had been assured that you would say yes, I would have asked you Monday – as planned – and not bother with stealing your things for the rest of the week. I must confess, Minerva, you do know how to strike fear into a poor old man's heart."
"Oh, Albus!" and Minerva embraced him, and they shared tears – both had loved one another for so long, but the feeling of fear had been mutual. But on that day they overcame the fear of rejection and closeness, they overcame everything that had stood in the way of their love.
So it was set, they would go to Madame Puddifoot's that night and get lost in the silly romantic flourishes that the place inspired. They arrived on time, both dressed in what would be considered semi-dressy robes. Albus took charge at once and ordered a soda for two and Minerva blushed and scolded him for his silliness. What would the students say if they saw their Professor and their Headmaster drinking from the same cup, their straws pushing their faces incredibly close? But to Albus it did not matter how many people lost their lunch at the sight of the two of them – tonight would be perfect.
To their surprise no one was there that they recognized, or so they thought – but one could never be sure. It wasn't a Hogsmeade weekend, after all – but several students had been known to disregard such facts. cough Harry Potter cough
"Albus?" asked Minerva, to which Dumbledore raised his brow slightly, "Why did you just cough 'Harry Potter'?"
"I believe my dear Minerva, that I did no such thing. cough Draco Malfoy cough " replied Dumbledore, furtively glancing at one of the tables near them which was slightly off the ground. Minerva's eyes shot to the said location and her lips thinned in fury. She was about to call out their names but Dumbledore silenced her with a finger. "Now, now, Minerva – let them enjoy their date, we've already forced them to hide underneath a table – no need spoiling it any further."
Minerva's eyebrows disappeared from her head for a brief moment, and Dumbledore looked up, presumably trying to find them on the ceiling.
"Oy! Where're not on a date!" shouted Harry in a fury – knocking over the table, and revealing a rather sick looking Malfoy.
"For once Potter is correct." sneered Malfoy, straightening up proudly, "We were discussing secret business!"
"And what secret business would that be Mr. Malfoy, why there was so much gum under that particular table? Detention for you both – tomorrow." Quipped Minerva, inwardly smiling at the boys' disappointed looks. "Now off to Hogwarts, both of you!"
As they receded from the now righted table Albus and Minerva could hear Malfoy mumbling, "Nice one Potter, can't control your anger worth a dollop, can you?"
And Potter's reply, "Stuff it, Malfoy. You're the one who wanted to meet here and have a tea party."
A snort was all that one could hear from Mr. Malfoy, and after that they had exited the shop. "Kids these days, can't even hide under a table correctly." huffed Dumbledore, winking comically at Minerva.
It was then that their dinners arrived, or rather – the soda and fish and chips that Dumbledore had ordered earlier arrived, and they began to chow down. They talked of witty things all throughout the meal, and by the end of the night were so bedazzled with one another that they decided not to go back to Hogwarts, but instead spend until sunrise stargazing on Madame Puddifoot's roof. One could just make out Gemini in the sky.
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A/N: Mwahahahahahahaaaaa! Why were Harry and Draco underneath the table – prolly not what you're thinking-? Stay tuned to find out (in a later chapter). Smile!