Minerva proved herself to be the best student in her year, excelling in all her subjects but particularly in transfiguration. Though there were students who told her hello or good job when she earned points for her house, she had yet to make any true friends.

December came, and she was happy to hear there would be a Christmas celebration before the holidays started. There was no reason to think they wouldn't really, but her life had been so divided before coming here. Church was a place where she, her mother, and her brothers kept their wizarding side secret and never the twain shall meet. She had almost expected Hogwarts to shove aside any Christian holidays or references to God or religion, but that wasn't turning out to be the case at all. In fact, the Hufflepuffs had a friar for their house ghost.

There would be a Christmas pantomime after the feast in the hall. She wasn't sure how she felt about theatre. Her church had barely began to tolerate celebrating Christmas; they viewed celebrating as frivolous and libel to take the focus off of God rather than put it on Him. They would have heartily disapproved of a pantomime though no doubt there were some members that took off to see the occasional play when they were out and abroad. She decided to hold her judgment until after the production as the church also happened to frown on witches.

Finished with all her schoolwork until after the break was over and with no one to spend time with, she decided to see how the newly constructed stage was coming along.

"Minerva, just the person I wanted to see. What do you think about the flowers? Does it need more or less?" he asked, holding up his wand ready to make adjustments. The flowers surrounded a real-working fountain that looked quite inviting.

"Seems about right to me." Professor Dumbledore knew how to make her feel as if he respected her opinion, which couldn't be said of every teacher. That's why he was her favorite teacher. Well, that and she loved transfiguration.

"Are you familiar with the tale of The Fountain of Fair Fortune?" he asked, making friendly conversation as he put the finishing touches on the set.

"In my house, we were more likely to be told bible stories before bed than fairy tales and certainly not wizarding fairy tales."

"Ah, worth reading before you see it. It has a lesson to teach. The best stories do."

After thanking him for the advice, she went to the library to do just that. It was the tale of a Muggle knight, who with three witches, were on a quest to find a fountain that would forever give them fair fortune. The trick was only one person was allowed its magic per year. The witches all help each other pass the obstacles until they realize they no longer need the waters and allow the knight to bathe in its waters, and his fortune does change, but none of them ever realize there was no power in the water at all. And the moral was not to rely on magic as the cure for life's problems, a moral she could appreciate.

She read the other tales and by the time she finished that, it was time to eat and watch the pantomime.

There was interesting dinner conversation taking place around her.

"Did you hear Eddie and Elizabeth fighting?"

"How could you not hear it? I thought they were never going to stop screaming."

"And they have to pretend to fall in love in about an hour. This should make for some interesting theatre."

Eddie Orpington, a fourth-year Ravenclaw, was set to play Sir Luckless. He was a handsome boy and very popular. He and Elizabeth Lima, a hot-tempered Gryffindor in the same year, had been going together since only a little after the term started. She was going to play Amata, his love-interest.

Minerva looked over at them. Eddie was laughing with the girl beside him, another actress in the play. She was set to play Asha, the sick witch, given the pale stage makeup she had donned. She looked back at Elizabeth, who was glowering at them both. Hopefully, they didn't let it interfere with their acting.

When they'd had all the turkey and pudding they could hold and had opened the firecrackers, which in Minerva's case had been a gold galleon, it was time for the pantomime.

Professor Beery was tickled pinked to be directing something besides plants. He practically shook with excitement as he introduced the performance and said how he hoped this would become a yearly tradition at Hogwarts. It soon became apparent that his lengthy speech was because Eddie and the laughing girl had disappeared. They were brought in at the last by a stern-faced professor, and the curtain lifted.

It started off well enough. "Amata" and "Asha" shared their tales of woe and promised to ban together in an effort to reach the fountain. The wall Professor Dumbledore had created cracked beautifully and the vines wrapped around Asha. The other witch, "Altheda", grabbed her, and Amata grabbed Altheda pretending to struggle against being pulled in.

It might have continued to go well if Sir Luckless hadn't been making eyes at Asha and missed his cue to grab Amata, so they all could be pulled through the wall.

Amata, let go and waved her non-prop wand at Asha, breaking the vines and challenging her to a duel, which was not the way it was supposed to go at all unless she had gotten a hold of an alternate version in the library.

Asha accepted her challenge and the light show began with the two witches being thrown and frozen and lifted in turn.

Romance was looking like pure foolishness from where Minerva sat. All it seemed good for was taking away a person's ability to show good sense. And more often than not, it ended in heartache at worst and petty jealousy at best .

Poor Professor Beery tried to get the show back on track; he had neared the stage and was giving whispered directions that they were ignoring. He jumped onto the stage, "Come now, friends, I am but a friendly passerby, but you must remember your vow to help one another to reach the Fountain of Fair Fortune." He got caught in the crossfire, knocking the "wall" over with his now enormous head and revealing a waiting, engorged ashwinder that was playing the Worm in front of a miniature, grassy hill.

This pantomime was taking longer than it was supposed to. What was supposed to be thirty minutes was fast approaching an hour thanks to the delay and going off-script. And if what she'd read about ashwinders proved to be true, they only lived for an hour. That meant it was due to lay its eggs and die at any moment.

Did anyone even realize the danger in the pandemonium taking place onstage? Before she could give warning, four red eggs dropped onto the very wooden floorboards.

Professor Dumbledore certainly realized the danger when he saw the eggs drop. "Everyone out! At once!"

The girls didn't even seem to care that a fire from the eggs was spreading around them as they continued to duel.

Some of the students seemed unsure if the flames were a part of the performance. After all, a pantomime was supposed to be entertaining. But when the teachers jumped up and began urging and ushering them to evacuate, and with what was fast being a fiery inferno, the screaming and running began.

Wands or no, they really ought to have taken a page out of the Muggle schools' book and practiced fire drills. Minerva couldn't help but think, as she was pushed along in the seething mass of panic. She managed to not get trampled.

They had to divide into their houses once outside the hall, so their prefects and heads could account for everyone. And thankfully everyone was accounted for, even the actors, but there were quite a number of them coughing from all the smoke inhalation and some of the actors had gotten burns.

The headmaster had stayed behind to put it out. She'd had the good fortune of pocketing her galleon after the meal though she'd never dreamed it was in danger of melting. How could any of them foresaw this?

Professor Dippet emerged from the smoky hall, covered in ash and wearing a frown. "There will be no more pantomimes in Hogwarts as long as I'm headmaster!"

She found herself relieved as the numerous victims of the fire were escorted to the hospital wing. She quite agreed with the sentiments of Presbyterians from her father's generation: theatre was dangerous and amoral.