Hair loss

Author’s notes:

This is a challenge response to Sue’s  challenge inspired on a picture of Minerva from the movie Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban.

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Minerva McGonagall made her way back from the Gryffindor dormitories to her own rooms. It had been a long night. After young Mr. Weasley had claimed that Sirius Black had attempted to kill him in his sleep, the castle had been searched thoroughly.

When the word came that Sirius Black was inside of Hogwarts, she had already been awake. The reason for this was slightly embarrassing.

Albus and she had a meeting planned for the next evening. Like always they would have some hot chocolate, play chess and talk about various topics.

But this time, she had decided, she wanted to look really nice. So she had spend the entire night in front of the bathroom mirror, scrubbing her face, taking two refreshing masks, painting her finger and toenails and similar things.

When one of the house elves had warned her that there was some sort of uproar in the Gryffindor dormitories, she had quickly pulled on her dressing gown and hurried to her precious lions.

Feeling rather tired, she reached the door of her rooms and spoke the password. Stepping inside she walked straight to her bedroom and took her dressing gown off. She was just about to throw it on a chair, when she noticed something odd.

Her dressing gown wasn’t tartan.

“But I only have tartan dressing gowns”, she spoke out loud.

However, this didn’t change the fact that the dressing gown in her hands was grey and definitely not tartan.

“Where does this come from?” she asked herself, turning the dressing gown in her hands.

She glanced around the room and caught sight of herself in the full-length mirror that was hanging on the wall.

She gasped in shock and took a few tentative steps closer to the mirror, not believing her eyes.

“No…”,  she muttered unbelievingly. “This cannot be true…”

Her long, raven black hair had disappeared and instead her hair was now brown with streaks of grey through it. And it was much, much shorter then it used to be.

“What is happening…”, she asked horrified.

Then a realisation hit her and she sank to the ground in dismay. Burying her head in her hands she moaned softly.

Albus… what would Albus think of this? She had been in love with him for decades, although she had always kept it a secret from him. She had never dared to tell him that she wanted their platonic friendship, which he seemed to value so much, to turn into something more.

And yet, she had always hoped then one day she would have the chance to show him what she really felt. And her hair had always been her best card. She knew that, like most men, Albus loved long hair. It was in fact the only reason she had kept it long.

It was unpractical and took lots of time, but it was worth the fantasy. The fantasy of Albus running his long fingers through it, of Albus stroking her hair, while she was safely lying in his strong arms.

And now most of her hair seemed to have disappeared. How could she not have noticed? How could this have happened?

A loud knock on the door made her look up. Getting to her feet she called out “Come in”. For decency’s sake, she put on the grey dressing gown and stepped into the living space.

Upon entering she looked straight into the eyes of the last person she wanted to see at that moment.

“Hello Albus”, she said wearily.

The look in his eyes changed. The twinkle disappeared and was replaced by a hard, cold look.

“Who are you”, he asked in an icy voice.

“Albus, it’s me…”, she answered bewildered. Didn’t her recognise her at all?

“You are not Minerva McGonagall”, Albus said his voice as sharp as a knife. “Minerva McGonagall has long, silky, raven black her that curls slightly at the ends…” he paused for a second. “And Minerva McGonagall would never, ever wear a dressing gown like that. She has a tartan dressing gown”.

“Albus… please, don’t you recognise me?” Minerva pleaded. “It really is me…can’t you tell?”

“All I can tell is that you are an impostor”, Albus snapped back. When she tried to come closer, he pulled out his wand and pointed it directly at her.

“Don’t come any closer. Who are you and what have you done to Minerva?”

“Albus, I am Minerva”, she said desperately.

Albus shook his head. “No you are not. I will lock you in this room and call for a Ministry employee. He'll know what to do with you”.

Before she could register what happened, he stood outside her quarters and the door slammed close.

“Albus…!” she shrieked, running to the door. She tried to open it, but all her attempts failed.

Finally she simply started hitting the door with her fists. “Albus…!” she screamed. “Albus… please… believe me… Albus…ALBUS!!!” 

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“Minerva… Minerva are you all right? Please wake up…”. Someone was near her… someone was at the other side of the door, calling her… someone who knew who she was.

“Albus, it’s really me”, she mumbled desperately.

“I know…”, a soothing voice near her said. “I know… please wake up, Minerva”.

With a jerk, she bolted upright in her bed and landed straight into a pair of strong arms. Without needing to look, she knew who it was. Her nostrils filled with the smell of chocolate and lemon drops and the she could recognise the voice that was whispering tender, soothing words in her ear from a thousand other voices.

His arms around her tightened even more and one of his hand rubbed her back gently. “Shhh, it’s alright now”, he whispered near her ear. Everything will be alright, you are safe now”.

A few minutes later she had catched her breath again and felt much better. Reluctantly she pulled back.

“That must have been some nightmare”, he said worried, smoothening her hair out of her warm face. “I could hear you screaming all the way down the corridor”.

Suddenly remembering her dream, she reached behind her and started to undo her braid. Albus looked at her in confusion. “What are you doing?”

“Is my dressing gown here somewhere?’’ she asked.

“Are you cold?” Albus asked, tucking the blankets more closely around her.

Minerva shook her head and her hair fell across her shoulders and back. One quick glance learned that her hair was still black, and still reaching her waist. Meanwhile Albus had summoned her dressing gown, and to her relief Minerva saw it was tartan, like it had been for decades.

Than she told Albus about the dream. “I don’t know where it came from”, she ended. “It was just… bizarre…”

“Perhaps the escape of Sirius Black and the events of the past week have upset you more then you thought”, Albus offered.

Minerva gave him a sceptical look. “A mass murderer is on the loose and I have nightmare’s about what I will look like with my hair short? I never believed I was that shallow”.

Albus started laughing and pulled her in a hug. “As long as you remember that I don’t mind if you are bald and covered in big, purple spots”, he said pulling back a little.

A silence felt between them.

Carefully, Albus reached out his hand gently stroked her hair. “Although I must admit that I prefer the way your hair is looking now”, he said in a completely different tone of voice.

His hand continued it’s exploration of her hair, gently running through the raven strands, feeling it’s texture.

Minerva closed her eyes and let the sensations wash over her. All her dreams of the past forty years finally came true. And all it took was one nightmare. How ironic.

When she opened her eyes her again, his face was only an inch away from hers. His hand stilled and her breath caught in her throat.

“Your hair… you are beautiful, Minerva’, he breathed against her lips. Before she could even think of a reply, his mouth covered hers and he kissed her passionately.

His kiss surpassed even her wildest dreams. It was much more tender, loving, sensual and passionate then she could have ever imagined.

When his hand slide around her waist, pulling her closer against his body, she wrapped her arms around his neck and showed him all the love the felt for him.

He never left that night and many declarations of love, kisses and caresses were exchanged between the two of them. Eventually the both of them fell asleep, she safely tucked away in his arms, he with his hand buried in her long hair.

Like the way it should be.

Fin

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Additional author’s notes:

(Before I am lynched by a Maggie Smith fan)  Please don’t get me wrong. I really think Maggie Smith looks great. If I’m her age and look like her, my husband will be very lucky. (Only question that remains is: who will that husband be?)

Right, trailing off… I think Maggie Smith looks great. But the books say clearly that Minerva has black hair. And I always thought it was long. (For the sake of romance, I’ll be the first to admit that)

 

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