Manners Do Make the Man

Minerva gazed at her full length mirror the next morning. This was her one concession to feminine refinement which she insisted on having wherever she happened to be. Looking at her image she saw only drawbacks not highlights. Inwardly, she had often described her slim, angular build as boyish or coltish, all awkward elbows and knees. Too busy giving in to her critical eye, she always missed those things that others noticed.

Maturity had blessed her form with a lithe, easy grace that softened her angles enhancing her womanly attributes rather than detracting from them. Her deep blue eyes were lively. They sparkled with an effervescent intelligence. Her smile was engaging and open drawing in even the haughtiest of observers. None of this did she see.

Minerva donned her usual excavation outfit - pit helmet, brown trousers, tucked white blouse and sturdy boots. Never one to consider herself a fashion plate, she braided her long dark hair and covered it all up with her helmet. She placed her wand into her pocket and hung a small emery bag on her belt. It contained her usual kit shrunk to miniature size - trowel, specimen bags, duster, a small muggle flashlight and lastly a muffled bell. Minerva looked at her reflection thinking the ensemble eminently practical.

Had she bothered to notice the reaction of the males around her as she made her way to the meal tent, she may have had cause to change her opinion if not her mode of dress. The trousers fitted her too well accentuating the length and shape of her legs and buttocks. Her shirt's pale color contrasted with her pants and belt making the slimness of her waist quite evident. Her confident, loose limbed stride drew the eye. She could not be described as a stunning beauty that left one speechless. No, her beauty was all her own and as such made speech unnecessary, and in her case, wholly inadequate.

Piers greeted her with a quick kiss on the cheek. Next to him sat the three other members of the research team. They too murmured their greetings. Breakfast was a quick affair. There were too many things to do for anyone to dawdle overlong. They had much to finish before the annual rains came and decimated the dig site. Throughout the day, Minerva flitted about checking on all the teams and their various tasks.

By midday her pants were dirty. Her boots had earned another layer of mud. Her white shirt stuck to her like a second skin while tendrils of her hair hung limply down her face. Despite all this, her eyes shone brighter and her laughter came easy and fast. As fate would have it, she was striding across the camp when Albus ambled in leading the camel. Appalled at the sight he presented and more than a little curious, she stopped and waited for the stranger to come closer. The wide brim of her helmet hid most of her features.

With one hand on the tether, Albus pulled the recalcitrant camel along muttering dire threats to all camel-kind under his breath. Albus was not in the best of moods or appearances. His blue robes were askew and torn in some places. His face was smudged with dirt. Perspiration dripped down from his still auburn hair to his trimmed beard. His face would have done a lobster proud. The man was tired and miserable yet manfully soldiering on.

Some hours ago the camel had suddenly refused to move any further. In his most gentle but authoritative tones, Albus had tried to convince the animal to start moving once again. The stubborn beast stared at him then drew its legs underneath itself. Clearly, the beast was not moving and the man had to accept that fact. Albus tried casting some spells. but with the anti- magic wards still in force all he could manage were a few wispy vapors and dim flashes of light. Defensive spells like "Stupefy" were allowed but stunning his only means of transport was not an option.

Admitting defeat, Albus gave the camel a drink of water and settled himself to wait. After an hour, the camel deigned to rise and they resumed their journey to Abu Sindel. Now and again, the ornery beast would stop and Albus would once again be forced to stop, too. With each stop, his patience thinned and his temper shortened.

As he drew nearer to the heart of the site, Albus thanked all the gods watching over him. He had caught up with the team at last. He could make out a young man waiting for him. "Can you tell me, young man, where I may find Miss Minerva McGonagall?"

"We have strict security here. Have you clearance from Cairo to be here?" Minerva eyed him surreptitiously. To her mind, he could only be one Albus Dumbledore, Hogwarts emissary and noted war hero. Doesn't look anything like his newspaper pictures. I thought he was older. Quite tall though.

"I have it here ... some where." Dumbledore fished around his robe pockets. Bureaucracy, one can never escape it. "I seem to have misplaced it."

"No clearance, no access," Minerva replied. Hmm, he's come this far let's see how serious he is.

Albus took a deep breath before saying, "I am certain that if you owl Cairo they will vouch for my presence and identity."

"That is not standard operating procedure. You will have to go back and secure clearance."

Albus was at the edge of his endurance after four frustrating days. Grant me patience in dealing with overeager lackeys. He snapped out, "Young man, fetch Miss McGonagall this instant. She has a letter regarding my arrival. That should be all the sufficient clearance you require."

He fixed the young man with the same piercing glare that had reduced grown men to quivering gelatin on and off the battlefields. The young man did not even blink. The standoff continued in silence for a full minute. Exhausted as he was, Albus could not maintain his glare for long. His shoulders sagged and he surrendered. "May I please see Miss McGonagall?"

The man has manners after all, thought Minerva. She extended her hand out and looked him straight in the eye. "How very rude of me, sir. Minerva McGonagall, how do you do?"

Albus' hand shook hers automatically. He could not find the right words to say. After all, what words could do justice to utter mortification or dreadful embarrassment? His reflexes fell back to rote and memory. "Albus ... Albus Dumbledore, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

Minerva motioned a worker over and told him in Arabic to find Piers and prepare the visitor tent. "Someone will tend to your mount. You are in need of rest and refreshment. Follow me please."

As they walked, or in his case limped, to the meal tent, Albus snuck a few sideways glances at the self-assured woman beside him. That was not the first impression I envisioned having. I should have changed into my dress robes first. "I must make amends for the way I spoke to you earlier, Miss McGonagall. I rather thought I was speaking with -"

"A man, yes. The clothes are misleading aren't they?"

By the arched tone of her voice, Albus could not quite gauge whether she had accepted his indirect apology or not. This simple mission was becoming tricky indeed.

Once inside Albus sat down gratefully on one of the long benches. Two glasses and a pitcher of apricot juice were placed before them by a slightly built Arab with a receding hairline. The Arab handed Minerva a small towel which earned him a small smile in return. As the Arab said a few words to her, Minerva watched with some surprise and no small amount of appreciation as Albus poured juice for her before filling his own glass. Albus drank greedily.

"Mr. Hamdi tells me that the midday meal will be starting in a few minutes. Might as well stay here until then." Minerva removed her helmet and sat down beside him. She dabbed the towel over her forehead, face and neck.

Albus could not help but admire the smooth economy of her motions. She may have been mannish in dress but her movements were naturally graceful and womanly. Too engrossed in watching his host, he did not notice a new arrival in the tent.

Piers strode in. His mind registered Albus' presence but his eyes immediately went to Minerva. He stood rather close to her. "I see you're finally taking a break, Minerva."

Minerva made the introductions. "Albus Dumbledore meet the director of this project, Piers Rampal."

"Honored to meet you." Piers smiled and shook Albus' hand. As men do unconsciously, he took this new male's measure and did not find him much of a threat romantically speaking. However, the aura of powerful magic emanating from the older man made his skin prickle. "My parents attended one of your Transfiguration symposiums over the summer. They were much impressed."

"So you are related to Dominique and Pierre Rampal?" Albus had learned to read people very quickly without resorting to Legilimancy. There was something very guarded about the young man.

"My parents." Piers moved to sit between Minerva and Albus. "But enough about me. You're here to see Minerva."

"Let the man catch his breath, Piers. He's only just arrived." Minerva sipped her juice. There was a fond affection in the way she looked at her colleague that a long-time observer of people like Albus did not miss.

Albus looked at the two young people before him. They made a handsome couple. "You know why I am here. However, I do not wish to interfere with your work in any way."

Piers spoke before Minerva could respond herself. "We are flattered that you've come all this way and knowing how important and valuable your time is, Dumbledore, would it not be a better idea to finish your business quickly?"

"I am here in an official capacity representing Hogwarts. As such, the only truly important person here is Miss McGonagall." Though Albus' response was to the man, his eyes were on the lady. "I am at your disposal. Speak with me at your convenience."

Minerva flushed meeting Albus' direct gaze. Noticing Albus' courtly ways, the manners and deportment drilled into her by Grandmother McGonagall came rushing forward. "I seem to have forgotten my manners. The deputy headmaster has come a long way and here we are bombarding him with questions. He needs to eat and rest. There will be plenty of time for talking later."

Piers looked at her as if seeing her for the first time. His eyes asked the questions that his voice would not. She pointedly ignored his questions. "Yes, of course, you're right, love."

At that moment, the rest of the team and the workers began arriving and filling up the tent. Minerva introduced Albus to the other wizards on the team. The others spoke little feeling too overawed by Dumbledore's presence in their midst. Minerva made up for the others' reticence by speaking more and more animatedly with their guest on many topics. It had started with transfiguration and over the course of the meal meandered into magical and muggle history, science and philosophy. The two found much common ground. On those topics of which the two were opposed, their debates were knowledgeable and incisive.

Afterwards, Minerva could not remember a luncheon where she had enjoyed herself more. As Albus went to get some much needed rest, Minerva returned to the site. She found herself looking forward to the evening meal to come.