Summary: ADMM. Here's what really happened at the Yule Ball.
Disclaimer: I have no rights to Harry Potter. This story is written merely for recreational purposes and no copyright infringement is intended. I apologize for any unintended mistakes. Also, parts of this are somewhat cliche. Ye be warned.
Chapter Three:
After half a dozen shoes, three different lipsticks, and no less than twenty different hairstyles, Minerva McGonagall still wasn't ready for Yule Ball. As she stood in front of the full-length mirror in her chambers, Minerva seriously considered just going to bed and forgetting all about everything.
Her outfit, a red off-the-shoulder dress, seemed to highlight both her imperfections and her age. One could see the flab hanging from her arms and the varicose veins on her legs. The very thought of Albus witnessing how horrible she looked hurt her stomach, which by the way, also stuck out. The lipstick made her look simultaneously like some sort of ninety-year-old Vegas showgirl and a washed out ghost.
She didn't even want to think about the shoes. She refused to wear heels, after what happened the last time. Unfortunately, it seemed that the only pretty footwear available had ten-inch heels attached. Hairstyles were no better. Turned out, there was a reason she had taken to wearing her hair in a bun. It absolutely refused to conform to any other style. Repeated attempts had led to nothing more than a huge ball of frizz, vaguely resembling an afro.
As she stared at her reflection in the mirror, Minerva realized that her attempts to look beautiful and glamorous had only led to her looking ancient and crude. Despairing, she fell to the ground and began to cry.
--
About an hour before the ball, on the way to Minerva's rooms, Albus was experiencing severe cold feet. Having finally managed to ask his friend on a date forced Albus to face the fact that he had never worked out any plan for afterword. The sense that she disapproved of the entire Yule Ball business didn't help Albus' nerves either. So, it was nervously that he knocked upon Minerva's door.
"Minerva," Albus called "Are you ready?" A muffled sob was the only response. "Min, Min what's wrong?" he asked gently through the door.
"It's no use," he heard her cry. "No matter what I wear, no matter how I style my hair, no matter how much makeup I put on, I'll still be me."
"What's wrong with that?" Asked Albus in confusion.
"Once, just once, I wanted to be pretty. I know you asked me so I wouldn't have to go alone, but I thought, oh Merlin, I was so silly, that if I dressed nice and all it wouldn't have to be a pity date."
"It wasn't a pity date" Albus said seriously "I asked you because I was selfish. I wanted the most brilliant, funny, courageous, beautiful woman I knew on my arm."
"I'm not beautiful" she muttered, "You're just saying that."
"When you smile, you're the most beautiful creature I've ever seen." He answered, meaning every word, "Please, Please, Please come down with me."
The pause resonated for a few minutes. Finally, Minerva ventured a question, "But what can I wear? The dress looked good in the store, but on me it's like an Easter bonnet on a Hungarian Horntail."
"Wear whatever you want. You can wear your teaching robes if that makes you comfortable. Just come."
"Do you really mean that?" asked Minerva.
'My dear, if I cared so much about your dress I would have asked it to the ball."
"Alright, give me a minute."
A little while later Minerva emerged. She had chosen dress robes, but they were dark, in a conservative cut. Her hair had returned to its usual bun, though she had added some thistles. She fidgeted with her hands nervously, until he offered his arm and they began to walk. Then, she smiled.
"Perfect" Albus observed appreciatively. "Now I know you can dance because you taught the students. Now the question is; do you like to dance?"
"I find I'm not often asked, she retorted dryly.
"Well, you won't have that problem tonight, I assure you."
--
As Minerva entered the Great Hall with Albus, she saw the enormous crowd of people and the elaborate decorations. Instead of being pleased, however, she found herself fighting the urge to turn and run.
"I'd best make sure the champions are ready to dance. Yes, yes, I think that's exactly what I should do" she stammered. She felt scatterbrained and shaky. As she hurriedly instructed the students to their places, her mind vaguely registered what a wonder it was that they understood her at all. She vaguely registered something wrong with Mr. Weasley's dress robes and Potter's nerves, as she began shooing the procession into place. Why had they made the room so hot? She wondered, tugging at her high-necked robes.
Suddenly, she happened to glace up and saw Ms. Granger coming down the stairs. That was how she had wanted to look, she thought, transformed, beautiful. Clearly, Mr. Potter, Weasley, and Krum agreed. Minerva found herself torn between tears of joy at how beautiful Ms. Granger looked, and bitter envy. Opting for neither she hurried to her place inside the Hall, feeling her chest tighten.
--
Standing beside Minerva on the dais. Dumbledore noted how tense and tight she looked. As the procession ended and the dance began. Albus decided to waste no time. The longer she waited to dance, the more nervous she would become. He wordlessly led her onto the dance floor, observing that she danced very will. She even stylized effortlessly. However, he could feel that she was still too tense. It felt like she was just waiting for some sort of disaster.
--
For a while, Albus and Minerva danced with a few different partners. They were, after all, school heads and needed to mingle. However, soon they found themselves sitting together, sipping punch. The other heads had disappeared.
The band began to play a foxtrot. He extended his arm and asked, "Would you like to dance." She nodded and allowed him to lead her onto the floor.
At first, Albus kept the steps simple, mostly basics and simple turns. However, as he soon realized his dancing partner was far superior in skill, Albus began to experiment. No matter how difficult he made the steps, Minerva kept up, gliding effortlessly. She had relaxed, he noted gleefully, and was even smiling. Thoughtfully, he tried a dip, and found that she kept a beautiful line with a great deal more grace than anyone he had ever danced with.
"Wow, look at professor McGonagall!" Albus heard a voice say. Feeling Minerva stiffen as they danced, he had to fight the urge to hex Neville Longbottom, until he heard him finish "She's amazing."
"Amazing," they heard Ginny answer, "She's bloody brilliant!"
"Shall we show off a little my dear?" Albus whispered to Minerva, as he led her into a series of complicated spins and a dip so low her bun brushed the ground.
For the rest of the night, they continued to flaunt their dancing abilities, even finding ballroom beats in the popular songs their students had requested. They danced around the perimeter of the room, even between the tables, until the orchestra played the last dance. Then, Albus pulled Minerva into an even tighter closed position and they smoothly finished the dance. As the last notes resonated and the looked at each other, slightly breathless, Albus saw tears in Minerva's eyes.
"I'm crying because I'm happy. Thank you so much Albus. The dance, it was beautiful."
He took her chin in his hand and turned her face upwards, "You're beautiful." He whispered. He saw Minerva look at him and slowly nod. "May I see you again? Court you?" Minerva nodded again.
The world was...perfect.
The End