Incident at the Yule Ball

[aptasi]

I've already posted this on fanfiction.net, but I thought I'd put it here too.

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.



Incident at the Yule Ball


“This staff meeting is called to order,” Dumbledore announced cheerfully, as all the professors took their seats. “First off, a cauldron of candy is coming around. Kindly, take at least five pieces and eat them immediately. I find you all much more agreeable when you’ve had some sugar.”

The professors all rummaged around for their favorite candies. The cauldron, filled to the brim with both muggle and wizard candy, was a common fixture in staff meetings. Hooch joyfully scooped all the Every Flavor Beans, much more than five, but no one cared. Snape helped himself to the dark chocolate. Poppy Pomfrey, after her usual disparaging look at the sugary feast, found herself a few lifesavers. Hagrid tore into the cockroach clusters. Dumbledore, who had already claimed all the lemon drops, turned to his right and handed the witch next to him a small tin of ginger newts with a wink, noting with glee her warm smile.

“Second order of business,” Dumbledore continued, “congratulations on the successful welcome for the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang delegations. Everyone was quite impressed.” Snape snickered, but Dumbledore kept on, unabated.

“Finally, the Yule Ball will be held this year, and I will be needing volunteers to help. Dancing lessons, decorations, policing our poor students during the dance,” Dumbledore turned to Snape and added cheerfully, “Severus I suggest you take that one.”

Albus Dumbledore never heard Snape’s reaction, for Professor McGonagall looked decisively ill. “Excuse me please.” She stood and left, leaving Dumbledore staring after her in confusion.



“I don’t want to talk about it. It’s silly.” She told Albus later, that evening. He had called her to his office, professed his concern for her, and asked her what was wrong. Her response had been, to say the least, not forthcoming.

“Minerva, I… I don’t want to pry.” He stammered, hoping she would explain to him what exactly was so silly.

She sighed. “It’s not what you’re thinking.” She knew he always tried to be heroic, but she didn’t appreciate it now, when it was none of his business.

“Min…” He began sternly, fully intending to find out what worried his deputy so much.

“Albus, we both have better things to do that worry about my idiocy.” She broke in brusquely, turning and walking to the door.

“The last Yule ball was in your sixth year wasn’t it?”

Minerva pivoted to face Albus and snapped, “No one was killed. I wasn’t attacked. Are you satisfied or shall I get some Vertiserum?”

“Then why was the Ball discontinued, Minerva?”

“Because the entire student body was drunk, Headmaster” Minerva called over her shoulder, just before she slammed the door behind her.

“Great job, old chap,” remarked one of the portraits, “Fighting like a married couple and you’ve never even kissed the lady.”

“Phineas” growled Albus.

“Sorry,” the painting muttered sullenly, “She’s your dearest friend. You have only honorable intentions. You’re the only one in the castle allowed to annoy her. You’ll curse anyone who looks at her crosswise and then curse them again. I haven’t forgotten.” Seeing that Albus had left the room, Phineas sardonically finished “Only honorable intentions… Yeah right!”



Minerva flipped yet another page in her new book, Alternate Methods for Common Transfiguration. She’d found her favorite chair from her old days as a student and had used her free period to curl up comfortably in it and try to relax. She read,

The transfiguration of a baby animal, seedling, or larvae into an adult of the same species is generally treated as the complete transfiguration of one animal to another, bypassing the inherent similarities. These similarities might be effectively turned to advantage by utilizing an alternate pathway. The prudent witch or wizard might simply speed up the normal metabolic pathways, applying energy to increase the speed and likelihood of the reactions occurring. The results of the two methods are clearly different, when one observes the intermediate stages. The traditional intermediate produces a hybrid of the two stages, with some features of the adult and some of the baby. The alternative produces, instead, a juvenile creature as an intermediate. The metabolic method is only recommended for N.E.W.T. level and above, as an imprecise application of the energy will generally cause the subject to combust or explode. The method has been tried with great success on various insect species and is considered a breakthrough in pest control. Caterpillars quickly turn to butterflies, saving the foliage and adding visual pleasantness. This application has already spread throughout several prominent wizarding households and businesses, most notably to Beauxbatons academy, where it aids in ground keeping. The viability and safety of this method on human subjects has not yet been…

“Err, Professor.” A voice asked hesitantly.

Minerva looked up, “Yes, Mr. Potter?” She answered.

“Have you seen Hermione, Professor McGonagall? She’s usually up here before potions.”

“I’m afraid I haven’t,” She replied politely.

As Harry scurried in another direction, looking for his friend, Minerva mused at how much she shared with Miss Granger. They had even selected the same chair in the library, no doubt because of the excellent lighting. Of course, Miss Granger had friends to come looking for her. That could make all the difference. With a sigh of exasperation, Minerva rose, tucked her book under her arm, and strode purposefully toward her office. Books could be comfortably numbing, but she had been sorted into Gryffindor, after all. Some things were meant to be faced. She removed her pensieve, a gift from Albus (the old coot thought everyone should have one) from her closet and gave it a swirl. Taking a deep breath, she looked down…

[aptasi]

Chapter Two:

“Good morning, Miss McGonagall.” A voice greeted the young student in Hogwarts robes.

“Good morning,” she replied to the suit of armor. A moment later, she sat down on the floor and opened her textbook. Ten minutes early to her Defense Against the Dark Arts class, Minerva had little to do but review her notes. Even as the other students began to arrive, separating into small groups, no one spoke the Minerva. No one bothered.

The largest group had formed around David Braun, a Ravenclaw Prefect. Braun had a look and manner that consistently won over nearly everyone on sight. His sandy hair was slicked back over a high forehead. The gray and misty eyes showed perhaps a trifle too much pride, yet the sharp chin only heightened the effect of his effortlessly perfect stance. He looked good, Minerva grudgingly admitted to herself. Being bookish didn’t make her blind. Shallow though such attention to appearance was, she couldn’t help but notice. Prefect, Quidditch captain, the most popular boy of any house in the entire school, David Braun had everything.

Minerva was startled out of her reverie, when she noticed David walking toward her.

“Minerva McGonagall,” He asked her formally, “Will you go to the Yule Ball with me?”

“Y-Yes!” Minerva managed to stammer before the bell rang, summoning them all inside. That day, for the first time in her life, Minerva McGonagall paid absolutely no attention in class.


He was late, Minerva realized, as she stood in front of the Fat Lady portrait to wait. Minerva had spent hours preparing and appeared drastically different. Her dress, gold and strapless, fit her perfectly, unlike her school robes, which had hung loosely. Her hair, usually dull and flat, shone and flowed in ebony waves down her back. Nails, formerly bitten short, sported perfect manicures, with paint to match the dress. Heels added to Minerva’s height, and the shoes attractively laced up her legs. The careful application of cosmetics transformed her face. Cheekbones appeared higher, and eyes suddenly seemed smoky. The combination was dazzling.

After a few more minutes of waiting, it occurred to Minerva that David, as a Ravenclaw, might not remember the location of the Gryffindor common room. So, she set out walking towards the Great Hall, hoping to find him.


The second Minerva turned the corner into the Great Hall, she knew something was wrong. The hall fell silent as people saw her. Some whispered behind their hands as she began to walk to the center of the dance floor, where she recognized one of David’s friends.

As soon as the friend noticed her he laughed sharply, “Look David,” he called, “She actually took you seriously!”

A boy on the center of the dance floor turned around, and Minerva recognized both David and the blond Hufflepuff on his arm. The girl had a long glamorous green satin dress, shining white teeth, and a flawless body. As she spoke to Minerva, she adopted a high-pitched silly tone, fit for talking to a baby or a kitten. "What’s the matter Miss McGonagall? Thought David would actually take you to the ball, did you? Don’t you know you’re ugly?” Titters broke out around the room, and the whispers increased in volume. The girl threw back her head and laughed, “That’s hysterical. She doesn’t even know!”

The laugher grew into an oppressive roar. Minerva felt her chest constrict, and she stumbled back, looking imploringly at David for help. Her eyes begged him to explain that he had asked her, to stop the giggles, to say she looked fine to him. Instead, he only looked confused. “Well,” he asked, “Why are you still here?”

Minerva turned to leave and tripped over her high heels, falling forward onto her face and tearing her dress. The hall’s mirth grew, if possible, even louder. Minerva struggled back to her feet and fled the hall at a wobbly run, tears streaming down her face.



Minerva pushed the pensieve away from her, and put her head in her hands. Just as she had told Albus, the incident was unimportant. So, why did it still hurt so much? It was the first, last, and only date Minerva McGonagall had ever agreed to. It took a special kind of courage to take that risk, one she found herself sadly lacking. She would rather go into battle than give her heart to a man. It was common knowledge that Avada Kadavras were painless, but humiliation hurt worse than Crucio. Minerva was too proud to take that kind of treatment twice. She kept her friendships few and distant and her romantic involvements nonexistent. Her work kept her satisfied, most of the time. Only when events like the Yule Ball brought her attention to her single state did she truly feel alone. She knew she wasn’t the romantic type, and she could only be herself. She had tried to be the kind of girl who fell in love, that night, and she had failed. If she harbored those kinds of feelings now, say for a certain wizard with a long white beard, she had better sense than to act on them.

Minerva heard a gentle knock on her door. “Minerva?” She heard Albus ask, “May I come in?”

When Minerva called back an assent, Dumbledore entered her office. “Yes,” she asked “What is it, Albus?”

Dumbledore took a deep breath and looked at the floor, fidgeting with the tassels on his robe. “Err, Minerva, I’ve known you for a long time and I…I’m just going to say this. Would you, please, accompany me to the Yule Ball?”

Minerva looked at Albus for a few seconds and then finally asked, in a small voice, “Albus are you in earnest. Because if you’re joking, you’ll break my heart.”

Albus stepped forward and took both her hands, “Minerva I have never been so serious about anything in my life. I want you to go to the ball with me and not just as my friend. Romantically. You are the most amazing woman I have ever met and I … I’ve been trying to work up the courage to ask you for months. Please, please say yes.” He asked imploringly.

Minerva answered, barely audibly “Yes.”

[aptasi]

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.

The End

[micha]

“Fighting like a married couple and you’ve never even kissed the lady.” *lol* The best quote of a portrait i have read so far.

[horcruxhorror]

yes phineas may be sarcastic and annoying and rather blunt but he is observative

[sonataeternal]

Phineas has to be my favorite portrait!

[~Aly~]

Oh...see dancing is good for you ^_^
Its so nice though how she finally got over her fear
I thoroughly enjoyed it - every bit of it

~Aly~