Yellow: Joy, Energy
Pomona sniffled, unable to look at the other attendees, who were filing solemnly into seats all around her. She pulled out her bright yellow handkerchief and froze. Where had that come from? She must have slipped it in her pocket without thinking…tears filled her eyes and spilled down her cheeks.
Some four and a half years earlier, a bad bug circulated among all the students and teachers, and Pomona had been unfortunate to wake up with it one morning in early December. Unable to find the time to get to Poppy for a remedy, she had gone about her classes sniffling and coughing, completely miserable.
In the late afternoon, Pomona was casting warming charms on the Mandrakes in greenhouse three, barely able to keep her eyes open. She was exhausted, but the little plants would freeze if she did not take care of them. She turned away to cough loudly, and jumped when she saw Albus standing in the door.
"Good afternoon, Pomona," he said cheerfully, striding in.
"Afternoon, headmaster," Pomona replied, quickly sniffing and stifling a yawn. Her voice was hoarse from coughing.
"Pomona, are you ill?" asked Albus, concerned. "You don't look well at all."
"I'm fine, headmaster," she told him, cursing her tiredness. She really had to get to Poppy. "I expect you're here about the Mandrakes? They're doing very we—ah-choo!"
"Dear me," Albus said, pulling out a yellow handkerchief and giving it to Pomona. "You seem to have caught this flu that's been going around. Let me take you to the hospital wing."
"Albus, that's not necessary," Pomona said. Then she sneezed loudly four times in a row into the little yellow hanky.
"I insist," Albus told her, a twinkle in his eye. "You look exhausted. You need rest, and possibly some hot chocolate. I always find that it makes me feel better." Pomona was too tired to argue, and allowed herself to be led from the greenhouse.
When they reached the hospital wing, Pomona tried to return his handkerchief.
"Keep it, my dear," he told her. "Until you have that wonderful energy back."
And with that, Albus swept away, humming to himself. It was so comical, Pomona couldn't help but laugh.
In her seat beside the other staff members, Pomona stared at the handkerchief twisted in her hands. She had never returned the soft yellow silk, quite by accident. She didn't suppose he'd mind. Albus' greatest joy had always been in sharing what he had with others, be it love, friendship, or a hanky. Pomona smiled and wiped away her tears.