"Nothing is better then roasting marshmallows over an open fire," Albus
sighed, leaning back against a snow covered tree stump as he licked the
white goo off his long fingers.
"I could think of other things I would like much better." Minerva's lips were thin and blue - both because she had been forced into the cold night, as Dumbledore had patiently explained the previous afternoon, to have a nice change of scenery for the Holiday gift exchange.
"What could be better then this?" He smiled as a group of Hufflepuff's began to sing 'Auld Lang Syne' at one of the other fire rings. "All four houses are getting along and having a fine time. This Secret Santa idea was brilliant."
Burrowing deeper into her plaid tartan, she retorted, "It was your idea."
"Exactly. Brilliant." His faded eyes gleamed in the snapping firelight as he turned to his friend. "Just think. In another three days, we'll all be enjoying a Christmas feast with friends and family."
"And won't that be a treat." She had never made secret her loathing of spending Christmas with the large McGonagall clan. It was never pleasant.
"Yes, a treat. I rather fancy opening a Christmas cracker. Would you care to join me?"
Around the fire, others had started to open the small, colorful packages. Before the two could pop open theirs, someone began to scream, "Ow! My eye! My eye!" It was comical to watch Colin Creevy jump around as he held a hand over one side of his face, blood streaming between his fingers. As Minerva got up to see what she could do to help, she felt a hand on her arm. Looking down, she saw Albus smiling at her. He inclined his head and she followed where he was indicating.
The screams had turned to choked laughter as the boy presented his partner, a pretty fourth year Ravenclaw, with a perfectly fine eye and a handful of severely crushed holly berries. She watched as the girl punched the joker in the arm, pretending to be offended until she couldn't help giggling at his further antics.
While she wanted to be stern and comment on the frivolousness of the youngsters, she found, instead, a smile cracking her gaunt features. "I miss being young. Especially during the holidays. It seems like so long ago that I was that girl, laughing at a prankster."
A gleaming blue package appeared on her lap. She glanced at it and over at her friend.
"Happy Christmas from your Secret Santa, Minerva." He smiled at her, a different smile than before. There was no trace of the jolly Headmaster or wise wizard that the world saw. This smile reminded her of the younger Professor that she had once known. A Professor that had made her giddy with a smile, or heartbroken with a single decision to let Hogwarts become his life.
Pulling a lumpy red parcel from a fold of her cloak, she smiled back at him. "Ditto, Albus."
They each opened their presents in the silence of two people comfortable with each other, surrounded by a joyful hubbub that they were a part of and yet secluded from.
Even though she didn't want to keep up the suspense, she found herself carefully folding the beautiful paper and stowing it back into her cloak. A small white box lay in her trembling hand. "Go on," a small voice in her head whispered. "It won't bite you. Or will it?"
Tamping down the persistent questions, she lifted the lid. A cluster of rubies, shot with brilliant fire, nestled in the gleaming metal of a beautifully handcrafted pin. "A thistle," she breathed. Sure enough, the highland symbol was woven throughout an outline of Hogwarts official crest. "It's beautiful. No, that's not ever an appropriate word."
"It will suffice, though. A simple 'thank you' is fine."
He was looking at her with that smile again and she could not bear to look away. "No, 'thank you' is not enough. Not for this."
"Let me show you how it's done, then." Taking her still shaking hand, he put it on his chest where she could feel his heart. "Dear friend, thank you for the wonderful cloak. I plan to look at your beautiful embroidery every day and remember what a wonderful friend you are. I am honored that you were my Secret Santa."
The tension was becoming a tad thick, she thought to herself. It had been awhile since they had allowed their feelings to reach this level. Holding out the brooch, she asked, "Could you help me put this on?"
Big mistake, her inner voice chided. The back of his hand grazed her throat as he attempted to keep the small clasp straight, causing her pulse to jump erratically.
He pulled back this time, grasping another package. "Now, for our Christmas cracker."
She grasped one end and pulled. A puff of bright paper revealed a delightful surprise. "A tiara. As a girl, I always wanted one." With great delight, she pulled off her customary hat and put the glistening bits of glass in its place. A giggle slipped out before she could tamp it down. She looked over to see if he had noticed.
A pair of poorly knit socks hung from his fingers. "Socks. How delightful."
The jolly Headmaster was firmly back in place and Minerva grieved for a tiny moment until the first explosion of colorful fireworks in the sky announced the holiday festivities were almost over for another year. It was easy to slip back into her role of stern Professor and she gratefully tugged her plaid around her as the cold began to creep back into her bones.
"Happy Christmas, Headmaster."
"Happy Christmas, Professor."
"I could think of other things I would like much better." Minerva's lips were thin and blue - both because she had been forced into the cold night, as Dumbledore had patiently explained the previous afternoon, to have a nice change of scenery for the Holiday gift exchange.
"What could be better then this?" He smiled as a group of Hufflepuff's began to sing 'Auld Lang Syne' at one of the other fire rings. "All four houses are getting along and having a fine time. This Secret Santa idea was brilliant."
Burrowing deeper into her plaid tartan, she retorted, "It was your idea."
"Exactly. Brilliant." His faded eyes gleamed in the snapping firelight as he turned to his friend. "Just think. In another three days, we'll all be enjoying a Christmas feast with friends and family."
"And won't that be a treat." She had never made secret her loathing of spending Christmas with the large McGonagall clan. It was never pleasant.
"Yes, a treat. I rather fancy opening a Christmas cracker. Would you care to join me?"
Around the fire, others had started to open the small, colorful packages. Before the two could pop open theirs, someone began to scream, "Ow! My eye! My eye!" It was comical to watch Colin Creevy jump around as he held a hand over one side of his face, blood streaming between his fingers. As Minerva got up to see what she could do to help, she felt a hand on her arm. Looking down, she saw Albus smiling at her. He inclined his head and she followed where he was indicating.
The screams had turned to choked laughter as the boy presented his partner, a pretty fourth year Ravenclaw, with a perfectly fine eye and a handful of severely crushed holly berries. She watched as the girl punched the joker in the arm, pretending to be offended until she couldn't help giggling at his further antics.
While she wanted to be stern and comment on the frivolousness of the youngsters, she found, instead, a smile cracking her gaunt features. "I miss being young. Especially during the holidays. It seems like so long ago that I was that girl, laughing at a prankster."
A gleaming blue package appeared on her lap. She glanced at it and over at her friend.
"Happy Christmas from your Secret Santa, Minerva." He smiled at her, a different smile than before. There was no trace of the jolly Headmaster or wise wizard that the world saw. This smile reminded her of the younger Professor that she had once known. A Professor that had made her giddy with a smile, or heartbroken with a single decision to let Hogwarts become his life.
Pulling a lumpy red parcel from a fold of her cloak, she smiled back at him. "Ditto, Albus."
They each opened their presents in the silence of two people comfortable with each other, surrounded by a joyful hubbub that they were a part of and yet secluded from.
Even though she didn't want to keep up the suspense, she found herself carefully folding the beautiful paper and stowing it back into her cloak. A small white box lay in her trembling hand. "Go on," a small voice in her head whispered. "It won't bite you. Or will it?"
Tamping down the persistent questions, she lifted the lid. A cluster of rubies, shot with brilliant fire, nestled in the gleaming metal of a beautifully handcrafted pin. "A thistle," she breathed. Sure enough, the highland symbol was woven throughout an outline of Hogwarts official crest. "It's beautiful. No, that's not ever an appropriate word."
"It will suffice, though. A simple 'thank you' is fine."
He was looking at her with that smile again and she could not bear to look away. "No, 'thank you' is not enough. Not for this."
"Let me show you how it's done, then." Taking her still shaking hand, he put it on his chest where she could feel his heart. "Dear friend, thank you for the wonderful cloak. I plan to look at your beautiful embroidery every day and remember what a wonderful friend you are. I am honored that you were my Secret Santa."
The tension was becoming a tad thick, she thought to herself. It had been awhile since they had allowed their feelings to reach this level. Holding out the brooch, she asked, "Could you help me put this on?"
Big mistake, her inner voice chided. The back of his hand grazed her throat as he attempted to keep the small clasp straight, causing her pulse to jump erratically.
He pulled back this time, grasping another package. "Now, for our Christmas cracker."
She grasped one end and pulled. A puff of bright paper revealed a delightful surprise. "A tiara. As a girl, I always wanted one." With great delight, she pulled off her customary hat and put the glistening bits of glass in its place. A giggle slipped out before she could tamp it down. She looked over to see if he had noticed.
A pair of poorly knit socks hung from his fingers. "Socks. How delightful."
The jolly Headmaster was firmly back in place and Minerva grieved for a tiny moment until the first explosion of colorful fireworks in the sky announced the holiday festivities were almost over for another year. It was easy to slip back into her role of stern Professor and she gratefully tugged her plaid around her as the cold began to creep back into her bones.
"Happy Christmas, Headmaster."
"Happy Christmas, Professor."