Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor do I own his friends, enemies, professors, and the rest of the group. Is that clear enough?

A/n: This is just a short one-shot story that is being told by Albus Dumbledore's point of view.

One's Perfect Present

I have told, and been told many times, that while one's Christmas present may be the perfect gift to them, it may also be the most awful gift someone else could possibly receive. Deciding on Christmas presents has never been a specialty of mine.

I stare out the window, confused. Minerva McGonagall has always been a complex woman; she can be crazy for a second, completely serious, strict, but never a mixture. That woman is a puzzle to me, a puzzle in which several pieces are missing, I should point out.

I, Albus Dumbledore, have known Minerva for many, many years, and yet, I can't seem to find the right gift for her. She always manages to find the most perfect gifts for me: paintings, stories, socks, watches, socks, robes, socks, quills, socks, candies, and more socks. I do recall saying to Mr Harry Potter several years ago, “One can never have enough socks.” Well, something of the sort, but perhaps not the exact wording. Either way, I need to find a Christmas present for Minerva, and fast.

Taking a stroll, I pass Severus Snape as I walk by the staff room.

“Good day, Severus,” I call to him.

“Good day, Albus,” he responds. Since his marriage to our brilliant, bright, Mrs Hermione Snape, he has been much more cheerful. I must thank Hermione for marrying him someday.

Then it hits me. Hermione was always good at romancing Severus, I remember, for I helped her with a few of her plans.

I rush down to the dungeons and knock on the door. I know she is in there.

Hermione rushes to the door and looks at me. “Good afternoon, Albus. How are you doing?”

I wave a hand. “Fine, fine, Mrs Snape. There is no need for all the formalities.”

“Then why, Albus Dumbledore, do you always refer to me as 'Mrs Snape'? I'd much rather prefer it if you called me 'Hermione'. Please, Albus?”

“Of course, Hermione,” I reply pleasantly. Then I remember my mission.

“Hermione... may I ask you a favour?”

“Why certainly, Albus! You know you can ask me anything!” Hermione chirps happily. She glances around her bedroom. “What do you need?”

“Well, Hermione, I need more of a... how do you say... an assistant? I was wondering what I should buy Minerva for Christmas.” My face flushes, surprising me. I do not blush often, as you may see.

Hermione's eyes light up. “Why Albus, how very sweet!” she cries, clasping her hands together. “It's so romantic!”

“Romantic?” I echo, feeling foolish.

“Yes, romantic,” Hermione repeats slowly. “Or was romance not the tactic you were aiming for? Is this present just a 'thank-you-for-being-so-nice-Christmas-present', a 'I'm-glad-you're-my-friend-present', or a 'I-love-you-very much-present'?” she asks me curiously.

I know the answer, for it is a very simple question. “The latter of the three, I admit,” I say to her. Hermione is pleased.

“Minerva will be so happy!” she cheers. Then she looks over at me. “I quote you, Albus, 'I cannot help you in this situation, for you and that person are lovers, and I am not to interfere with your relationship. If you really love that person, your present will come from the heart'.”

I look at her, amazed. “You remember every single word from that one conversation I had with you two years ago?”

She blushes. “Well, not exactly. I put the memory in my Pensieve and look at it sometimes. It helps me out when I have trouble finding a gift. Want to see the memory, Albus?”

I nod my head slowly. Had it really been I who had said such things? Had I really believed in what I had said then?

Hermione and I plunge our heads into the Pensieve and observe. I observe. I am surprised.

Pensieve Memory:

“Excuse me, Professor Dumbledore, but do you really approve of my relations with Severus? Is it not against the rules?” Hermione demanded.

“It is very much against the rules, Hermione,” I replied smoothly. “But, as you know, I am the Headmaster, and I am allowed to change a few rules around.”

Hermione smiled. “Headmaster, you don't know how much this means to me.”

I chuckled. “But I do, Miss Granger, I do.”

Hermione glanced at me then, a bit nervous. “Headmaster... I know Severus' birthday is coming up... on the ninth of January, right?”

“Precisely, Miss Granger.”

“Well, I was wondering... well... you've known him for so long... what shall I get him for his birthday?” she asked nervously.

I smiled at her. “Hermione, listen to me. These words are very important in a relationship: I cannot help you in this situation, for you and that person are lovers, and I am not to interfere with your relationship. If you really love that person, your present will come from the heart. Trust me, Hermione, it will.”

Hermione beamed. “You really believe I can do that, Professor?”

I laughed again. “Child, I know you can.”

She smiled at me. “By the way, Professor, if you don't mind me asking, but who told you those words?”

The memory was cut off right there.

Hermione looks at me quizzically. “Albus, really, who did tell you those words?”

I look down, quietly. “Minerva did,” I whisper. “She told me when I asked her what to by for the one that I loved. She had no idea I was referring to her.”

Hermione giggles. “I'm sure you're right, Albus. Now, you need to do some Christmas shopping!”

I say a polite goodbye before heading off. Feeling confident, I call Minerva over to my office. She hurries in.

“Goodness, Albus, what's the hurry?” she demands.

I smile. “No hurry, Minerva, just hoping you could stop by for a little chat.”

She smiles back. “Certainly, Albus.”

The two of us talk for awhile, enjoying ourselves. Then I hear a chime: It is five minutes until Christmas Day.

“Bloody hell, I've been here too long,” Minerva murmurs. It suddenly occurs to me that I had never heard Minerva swear before.

“No, you haven't,” I insist. “Please, how about a nice... lemon sherbet to go along with our conversation.”

Minerva laughs. “Why, I daresay I can't back out on such an offer, can I?”

“No, you can't,” I answer.

Minerva suddenly looks up at me. “I hope you have a Christmas present for me, Albus! I'll hit you with the flyswatter if you don't!”

“Flyswatter?” I repeat confusedly. I ignore it. “I have a present, Minerva.”

Minerva relaxes. “Can I have it now? Please, Albus, your gifts are always so pleasant.”

I had never know she had found my gifts pleasant, but it was nice to hear. “Yes, I suppose I shall give it to you.” Before she can resist, I put my hand on the back of her head, pull her close and give her a kiss on her mouth.

The clock chimes again. I grin at Minerva.

“Happy Christmas, Minerva.”

Minerva gives me a huge smile. “Happy Christmas- oh, no! I must've left your gift back in my bedroom, I am so sorry, Albus, I'll be right back!”

She returns a few minutes later with a small package in her left hand. “Happy Christmas, Albus.”

I open the parcel to find two large, knee-high, white socks with red lipstick marks printed on them. Minerva's lipstick.

I laugh. “Thank you, Minerva. One can never have enough socks.”

She gives me a coy smile. “Just as one can never have a better present than the one you gave me.”

I wink. “Are you sure about that, Minerva?”

She laughs and takes my hand. I let her hold it. My new socks up to my knees, we walk up to the empty Gryffindor tower. Hand in hand. My perfect present.

Finis

A/n: Hey all! I couldn't help it.. I just HAD to write a AD/MM story. It's a one-shot, by the way. What did you think? You can send me some feedback by clicking the little purplish-blueish button by the words 'submit review' near the bottom left hand corner of the page. Thanks for reading, and hope you liked it.

-Sunny