Don' t you just hate it when the plot bunnies attack you? Bwahaha, I can't get rid of them!...so here is the result of them. I'm sure this has been done before, infact, I'm almost positive, but here is my version!
Summary: Minerva's too uptight, WAY too uptight, so Albus bets her that she can't wear her hair down for a day! But how badly does it backfire?
Not my characters, not my story, and more than likely, not my plot.
Beautiful Minerva, Let Down Your Hair!
Albus strolled lightly down the hall towards his office, there was going to be a meeting between he and Minerva to discuss a few matters relating to the womping willow and Remus. Only did he hear the commotion when Minerva's voice was carried through the whole of the corridor. "What on Earth are you doing Mr. Potter?!"
"I-I was just um…practicing the lesson for Defense Against the Dark Arts."
"Which would be what? How to repel the entire student body! Kindly take you knickers off your head, and get to your dormitory. Fifteen points from Gryffindor for your outrageous display."
Albus turned the corner and stared at the oddly played scene. Despite his first impression, the knickers were only on his head, and he was indeed fully clothed; Minerva was fuming. He could tell just by seeing her face. Her nostrils were flared, her cheeks were red, and her hands were in fists; not surprising given her tone. "Is there something wrong Professor?"
Her eyes flashed towards him, "I've taken care of it."
He nodded, afraid if he made her even the slightest madder, his life would surely be over. She truly reminded him of a tabby cat, had she been in her animagus form, her claws would have been out, and her teeth bared. He swallowed, "Shall we come to my office then, if you are finished with the student?"
He let out his hand, and she slid her arm through his. The two of them found their way up the staircase to Albus's office, and they both headed towards the desk; Minerva took the opposing seat, and Albus the one behind it. They stared at eachother silently as the clocked ticked by, second by second, Albus finally spoke. "You really shouldn't have been so hard on him you know."
"You can't honestly tell me that the horrific display was actually to your liking. Honestly! The boy was wearing knickers on his head!"
"Oh come now, you weren't ever young and crazy? Adolescents aren't thinking straight all the time, the hormones are what you call…raging about."
"Honestly, sometimes I think you're as crazy as those idiot children. Hormones? What do hormones have to do with the boy wearing knickers on his head! Wearing his dirty knickers on his head, did you hear what I just said?"
He thought slowly, feeling a wide grin come across his face. He'd just been hit with a wicked, wicked idea. "Obviously the fair Minerva McGonagall has never done anything childish in her life."
"I've done just as many childish things as the next person. That still doesn't give him the right to wear knickers on his head."
"I say you've never done anything childish in your life. Miss 'high and mighty stay out of my way' McGonagall, I say you've never done one thing that you would have been seen as childish."
"Let's not get into an argument over something as idiotic as what I have or haven't done. The issue, is the student!" She was getting mad again, obviously feeling something unpleasant coming on, but Albus wasn't about to let the opportunity slip through his fingers.
"No, the issue is you being too hard on the student. I'll bet you ten galleons that you couldn't do anything childish, even if you tried."
She glared at him, nostrils flared, lips pinched together. "What do you have in mind?"
"Wear your hair down for the whole day, infront of the students, and a little bit of enthusiasm may help you get slightly more spontaneous."
"Well we can't pretend like you aren't strict. I'll give you whatever you wish if you uh…let your hair down for a day."
She stared at him, he felt as if he were being searched over for some crime that he hadn't committed. He could see her brain cells working quickly in her head, she wasn't going to like the idea, but Minerva McGonagall, as he had found through the years was never one to put down a challenge, this seemed to be the perfect one. "A day? That's all?"
"If I do it, will you swear that you'll give me something that I want?"
"I suppose so, of course it ought to be in reason."
"I want a book; a new one."
"Easier said than done Minerva. So tomorrow then?"
"Don't push your luck," she said, her Scottish brogue bringing a slight twinge to his ears, "tomorrow I will wear my hair down, but don't you dare do anything foolish."
"Don't worry," he smiled, "I won't."