Bright Eyes

June 1960

Dawn emerged without being perceived the next morning. The bright summer heavens had been exchanged in the night for thick, grey, stormy clouds that concealed the sun behind their dark mass; a mass which seemed to cover the entire stretch of sky reaching to the far edges of the horizon. However, the excitable moods of the students of Hogwarts were not to be discouraged; the summer ball was set for that evening, and the weather was certainly not going to impede the upcoming merriment.

Minerva came to breakfast refreshed, though not from a night of restful sleep. On the contrary, her night had been full of strenuous reflection and challenging reasoning; but sleep arrived when her mind had unearthed a peace that she was unaware she had been seeking. Dumbledore was already seated and was talking animatedly with Professor Flitwick who had joined him on his other side that morning.

Taking her seat, Minerva spoke her much desired breakfast into her plate and was rewarded with cornflakes – which she had not asked for. She sighed loudly through her nose and vanished the cornflakes with her wand.

"How many times has that happened in the last fortnight?" Dumbledore had turned to greet her and witnessed the meal-time mistake he had seen countless times in recent days. Minerva turned to him only slightly frustrated this time, compared to her usual burst of annoyance at the house elf blunder.

"Will you do the honours?" she asked. Dumbledore smiled at her and leaned over just enough so that the plate could hear his order.

"Thank you," she said as the correct breakfast appeared without any difficulty.

"I think there's a curse on your plate, Minerva," he told her. "Either that or it can't understand your Scottish tongue," he added with a playful smile.

"Very amusing, Albus," she said, her own small smile defying her sarcastic words. "I'll talk to the house elves later."

Dumbledore kept his eyes on her for a short while as she began to eat, before turning back to his own breakfast. Minerva ate in silence while the student chatter filled every empty space in the Hall.

Suddenly, just as the crowd began to disperse, an enormous flash of lightning shot across the Great Hall ceiling. Some students cried out in surprise, others even stooped or ducked their heads to avoid the bolt that would never reach them. Almost every face in the Great Hall looked up at the bewitched ceiling, and just as they did a huge crack of thunder invaded the ears of each and every person present. Many people jumped or flinched in surprise at the massive explosion of noise. The rain came soon after that. It began as a patter against the windows, and then turned almost immediately into an alarming downpour.

Dumbledore and Minerva had joined the students and other teachers in staring up at the ceiling that loomed dark and menacing above them. Another bolt flashed and the ear-splitting clap of thunder came sooner that time, telling everyone present that the storm was quickly closing in above Hogwarts. Dumbledore smiled and looked back down at his plate to finish off the small remains of his breakfast.

"Glorious weather we're having," he said with complete sincerity. Minerva tutted and rolled her eyes in conjunction with a smile, and dropped her knife onto the breakfast plate she had finished with.

"We'll have to change some of the outside arrangements for the ball tonight."

"Is the ball tonight?" Dumbledore asked feigning indifference. "I had no idea."

Minerva knew full well that Dumbledore had every idea, and that he was probably more enthusiastic about this ball than a lot of the students. His usual twinkle glittered as he peered at her over the rim of his spectacles and declared happily, "I'll have to practise my dancing."

"We're there to supervise, Albus," Minerva said sharply. "We can't have students cursed with tickling spells and such nonsense again."

Her patience was tried as Dumbledore chuckled merrily at the memory of last year's summer ball.

Later that afternoon, Minerva stood in the entrance hall waiting for Professor Flitwick to help her weatherproof, rearrange or, if necessary, take down completely the outside decorations and the enormous tents that were even bigger on the inside.

The storm had remained throughout the entire day and the rain was pouring harder and faster by the hour – Minerva could hear it pounding against the castle, and the entrance hall was frequently alight with the flashes of lightning speeding overhead.

"Forgive my tardiness, Minerva." Dumbledore's voice rang out cheerfully from just behind her. She turned and was greeted by his smiling face.

"Where's Filius?" she asked.

"He asked me to make his apologies. He is in somewhat of a fix from a fourth year charm gone rather awry," Dumbledore told her. "I trust my company will do for the present?"

"Very well," Minerva answered.

Once they had stepped out of the entrance doors they began to understand to what extent the castle had been protecting them. As it was summer the temperature outside was rather pleasant; however the wind was stronger than it had appeared to be from behind the school walls, and it began hammering the rain fiercely into Dumbledore and Minerva the moment they stepped out of the castle.

They moved quickly down the steps and out into the open where their backs were no longer protected by the castle wall. Minerva's hat was immediately blown off her head and, though she quickly retrieved it with a spell, she transfigured it into a thimble so that she could tuck it away safely. Their cloaks were beating and flapping around them as the wind blew one way, then the other, then twirled and twisted around, and they were soon sodden with the lashing rain.

"We need to move the fairy lights first," Minerva said loudly over the howling wind and hammering rain to Dumbledore.

A crash of thunder deafened her to his reply, but she saw him move over to the bushes where the fairies were struggling against the severe storm. Gently and with care, Minerva and Dumbledore helped to loosen the tiny creatures from the bushes that held them captive, and a complicated spell vanished them to a place that no witch or wizard has ever seen, and which only exists if you are a fairy.

"We'll have to take the tents down," Dumbledore said as they both stood up from the last bush. "They'll be ruined in this weather or blown away completely. None of the students will come out here."

There was another lightning flash which flared together with a massive clap of thunder, only emphasising Dumbledore's point. The lightning illuminated his entire form and Minerva saw his eyes flash underneath his drenched, flailing hair. Something in that moment suddenly made the two professors hesitate to move apart. Minerva held Dumbledore's eyes a few seconds' longer while loose strands of her hair and his whipped at her face and neck. She watched as the strands danced and tangled together before them, only to become free again in the turbulent, relentless wind. Another crack of thunder came. It was so loud this time that they both jumped at its colossal blast. The moment vanished.

"Let's be quick," she said.

Their faces were dripping wet and their cloaks lay heavy on their frames as they headed for the first of the three large tents spread out over the Hogwarts grounds. As they came to it Minerva passed Dumbledore and headed for the second, reaching for her wand. The storm continued, becoming louder and louder as the three tents were quickly dismantled and whipped away.

As soon as they were back inside the castle entrance hall Minerva and Dumbledore stood brushing their wet hair from off their faces where the strands had matted together from the rain and flattened against their eyes and cheeks and forehead. Two separate puddles began to form at their feet from their dripping robes.

"At least it's not cold," Minerva said thankfully, her face still moist with water droplets.

"How about a nice cup of chocolate before the festivities begin?" Dumbledore asked her as he wrung the rain water out of his beard, deepening the puddle he was standing in.

"A cup of tea sounds perfect," she answered.

"That's what I meant, of course," Dumbledore responded. "Who would want a sweet, delicious drink such as chocolate?"

"Who indeed?" Minerva said.

Dumbledore just caught her smile as she turned away from him to walk up the entrance steps to her quarters.

Minerva stepped over her threshold still in soaking robes and was welcomed with the sight of two steaming mugs on her table, one of tea and the other undoubtedly full of hot chocolate. Dumbledore entered behind her, equally sodden but cheerful.

"Ah, that Gerald is a wonder," he said to himself as he saw their refreshments.

He took Minerva's outer cloak from her and hung it with his own in mid-air. Pointing his wand at them and muttering a quick spell, Dumbledore watched the colours lighten as the cloaks dried with his words.

"Make yourself at home," Minerva said. "I'll be back in a minute."

Dumbledore watched as she walked into the next room then dried the robes he was wearing and performed a similar spell for his hair and beard. He sat down on her sofa with his mug of chocolate and hummed a little tune as he waited for it to cool and for Minerva to return.

Suddenly he heard a sharp, disgruntled noise come from the room Minerva had entered and looked over to the door. It had just opened and she was walking through it in different, dry robes.

Her hair however was the aspect that had caught Dumbledore's attention. She had released it from the long-established bun and, still flattened with rainwater, it was now dripping down past her shoulders and her elbows and reaching the small of her back. He watched her walk to the cloaks hanging on nothing and saw as her hand dived into one of the pockets. Pre-empting her next move, Dumbledore stood up, placing his drink on the table before him. He walked over to her, pulling his wand out of his pocket as he did so.

Minerva's fingers clenched round the wand that she had found in her cloak pocket just as she saw Dumbledore standing beside her.

"Allow me, my dear." he said smiling.

The wind and rain had twisted her hair together and had formed thick ropes which were hanging heavily, but these unravelled gradually into their individual strands as Dumbledore pointed his wand at the tips of Minerva's hair resting almost at her hips, and muttered the same spell as the one he had performed on himself. His eyes followed his wand as it climbed up slowly past her stomach, past her chest, reaching her collarbone and shoulders, and finally the magic completed the rest and dried her hair to the roots. It shone with the delicacy of morning sunlight spilling through glass, and its inky blackness poured down her body like a gentle potion.

"I can't quite put my finger on it," Dumbledore said, standing opposite her, his eyes twinkling teasingly, "but I've noticed that something's different."

"And what might that be?" Minerva asked him, indulging him in his tease.

He was only standing a few feet away from her, but she felt, more than saw his eyes sweep over her form and then back to her face. He looked at her in the pause that followed, his eyes drinking in and absorbing every inch of skin that shaped her features. Minerva felt naked under his gaze and found that she did not mind. She stared back at him, and when his eyes came back to hers from their journey over her face, he spoke.

"Your eyes are brighter."