Of all the unlikely things that could have happened to her, the unlikeliest was that Minerva had come to enjoy Christmas. Partly because of the after-party party Pomona and Will hosted in Pomona's rooms for select colleagues, but also for the private affair she and Matthew held in her bed to celebrate the first night of his mid-winter visit to Hogwarts.
This year's had been particularly spectacular, thanks to a rare charm Matthew had picked up at a Healers' conference in Bombay. As she drifted off to sleep, Minerva thought she'd be lucky to remember her own name by the end of the two weeks they'd spend together.
"No, stay ..." Matthew said, groaning when the Tempus Charm sounded at two and Minerva made to get up.
She bent down to kiss him quickly. "I'll be back in forty-five minutes."
"Mmm, wake me. I'll make it worth your while."
He let go her hand, and she rose to pull on her tartan flannel nightdress and heavy green velour dressing gown, using a charm to put her hair to rights in its respectable spinster's braid.
By the time she slipped out the door to do her rounds, she could hear him snoring again.
Some of the other staff grumbled about the late-night rounds, but Minerva wasn't a grumbler, and besides, Albus had good reason to insist. The charms to detect intruders wouldn't keep out the likes of Tom Riddle—Minerva refused to call him "Voldemort—whatever guarantees Filius gave. He hadn't seen what she had of Dark magic. None of them had, save Albus.
She made her way quickly through the corridors, checking empty rooms and illuminating dark corners with her wand. The air was still and silent, redolent of smoke and evergreen even now, hours after the feast. It was comforting. It smelled of the winters of her childhood, when all seemed possible, especially on Christmas morning, with the prospect of some sweeties and a new toy or book ahead of her.
She moved methodically through the east wing of the castle, meeting only the occasional Hogwarts cat along the way. They stopped whenever she approached, and almost invariably cocked their heads at her as if trying to work out why she seemed familiar in a way the castle's other two-legged inhabitants did not. She gave each a brief nod of acknowledgement.
When she reached the top of the tower, she stopped in front of the large leaded-glass window that overlooked the east courtyard, allowing herself to be enchanted yet again by this view of Hogwarts and the few scattered lights in the village beyond, just visible from this height.
Life, she thought. Shimmering. Fragile.
Matthew was life, too. And love, found at this relatively late date in her life. Who would have believed it?
When she returned to her rooms, she found him not in her bed, but in her sitting room, which was almost as agreeable.
"Baby, it's cold outside," he sang, holding out a cup of something steaming.
Rolling her eyes at him, she took it. There were aromatic spices that tickled her nose, and when she sipped it, she didn't recognise the flavour. But it was warm and just slightly sweet.
"What is it?' she asked.
"Mulled wine. I used a bit of the Artemnesia I brought back from the Cairo conference."
"Not too much, I hope."
"Just enough to help you sleep. Now drink up."
"Yes, Healer McKinnon," she said, and dutifully finished the wine.
They settled back in under the warm duvet, and for once, she wasn't plagued by dreams.
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