"WHAT?" Pomona Sprout and Madame Hooch squawked together.
"You're getting married!" Madame Pomfrey and Professor Flitwick squealed simultaneously.
"I knew it." Professor Trelawney soliloquized dramatically.
Minerva stood in the midst of her shocked colleagues (well, except Trelawney, OF COURSE.) and bestowed a slightly embarrassed smile upon them all. Albus remained stoically calm; only his twinkling eyes and benign smile showed his feelings. Standing beside him, Minerva could feel his chest rumble with a rib-cracking laugh and she elbowed him none too gently. He exhaled on an almost silent bark of laughter that went unnoticed by the chattering group surrounding them.
"What color should Minerva's wedding gown be?" Flitwick asked finally, standing up on five feet worth of books.
"Spangled blue! Urg, no! Pink! Purple!..."
Minerva leaned close to Albus and murmured quietly, "Albus…I think I'm going to pass out if they make me a pink wedding gown. I'd look horrible and ugly… and…"
Albus silenced her with a swift kiss on the lips. "Hush, you're wrong. You'd never be ugly in any color gown…and you must certainly not pass out on your wedding day. Where's my lovely poised Minerva?"
"GREEN!" Madame Pomfrey finally bellowed over the conversation.
Suddenly, utter silence in the room. Minerva breathed a sigh of relief. At least it wasn't pink.
"Green would be good." Professor Sprout ventured hesitantly.
"Yes, it'd match her lovely eyes." Madame Hooch agreed devilishly. Titters ran through the room. Minerva flashed her eyes indignantly at Hooch while Albus winked at her.
"It's settled then." Madame Pomfrey said triumphantly.
Three weeks later dawned bright and cold. Minerva paced the floor, not willing to admit to anyone that her heart was thundering in her chest and that she would rather be anywhere but here for her wedding day. Wedding day! And she still had yet to see her wedding gown. Poppy Pomfrey had insisted that the design would be a surprise for her, and no one was allowed to tell Minerva or Albus what it would look like. Minerva glanced at the golden phoenix clock that Albus had given to her on her previous birthday. Six o'clock. Poppy would be here any moment. Any…moment….
BANG! Poppy and Madame Hooch slammed Minerva's door shut and beamed at her friend over the flowing mass of green and white silk. Minerva sighed, both in awe at the beautiful gown and at her friends' completely indiscreet entrance.
"Good morning, Poppy and Rolanda. May I beg you not to slam the door next time? You'll wake my House next time if you keep going at this rate. Now come, help me try this dress on, I've been dying to see how it looks on me."
Poppy and Rolanda giggled like young girls again and obliged Minerva's request. Five minutes later, the gown was impeccably in place and even Minerva herself thought she looked pretty.
"You're gorgeous! Ooh, Albus is so going to be speechless. Lovely, beautiful Minerva." Poppy bubbled with excitement.
"Yeah, except for her banshee lookin' hair. Here, I'll comb out the tangles." Rolanda grinned at Minerva in admiration.
Minerva sat by her boudoir and closed her eyes while her friends fixed her hair.
All was ready. The choirmaster was Professor Flitwick and the wedding guests were accommodated. Hagrid wore his best (and worst) suit and attempted to tame his hair and beard with copious amounts of black elbow grease. He reeked of the odor but Minerva was too happy to see her friend to care. Madame Maxine was also in attendance, taking up three chairs alone. Albus was looking impossibly handsome in his dappled midnight blue robes. He looked like the handsome Transfiguration professor of so many years before. Even his hair was back to auburn. Minerva herself was nervously waiting for Poppy's cue to enter the procession. Finally, Poppy waved her wand and a descending sparkle of silver stars arched over Minerva's figure. The crowd collectively gasped in awe as Minerva slowly opened her eyes to bright sunlight.
Music swelled as Minerva gracefully glided to where Albus stood, speechless as Poppy and Rolanda predicted. Her shimmering gown of green and white silk gently outlined her figure and sparkled with each flutter of sunlight. Hagrid craned his neck back to keep Minerva (Professor McGonagall!) in sight, for she was truly breathtaking. The very audible crunch of splintering wood foretold the collapse of a chair. Rolanda and Poppy both doubled over with silent giggles, each elbowing the other in the ribs.
As Minerva approached Albus, he took her hands in his. The little wizard who performed the ceremony droned on and on about the most powerful wizard marrying the most powerful witch, but neither Minerva nor Albus heard a word of it. At last, a second shower of silver and golden stars erupted over their heads and Albus was instructed to kiss his bride.
Albus leaned close until his lips were half an inch from Minerva's. As he whispered, his breath caressed her face in a mixture of lemon drops and hot chocolate.
"I love you….so so much, darling.
