5th September 1971
Pomona was sitting by the fireplace, needles clicking furiously together as she tried to improve the lumpy yellow jumper she was making for herself.
"Oh, this is no use!" she said suddenly, dropping her creation unceremoniously into her lap, her expression turning into one of utmost displeasure.
Minerva looked over the rim of her glasses, which were slipping down her nose. Pushing them up with one finger, she sighed and set aside the Transfiguration Today she had been trying to read.
"Let's see?" she asked, leaning forwards in her armchair to get a better view of the knobbly mass her friend had given up on.
"There isn't much to see," grumbled Pomona, lifting her knitting and placing it on the coffee table which stood between Minerva and herself.
"It does not look too bad from here," Minerva pointed out, leaning forward and taking her tea, which was still steaming despite having been out on the table for a good half hour at least.
"You're just being kind," said Pomona, falling back into the red tartan armchair she had been occupying since the end of lessons that afternoon.
"Or truthful," stated Minerva, shrugging her shoulders before taking a small sip of her tea and placing it back down again a few moments later.
Pomona sighed and pressed her eyes shut for a moment. The wrinkles around her eyes deepened and Minerva noticed just how tired her friend looked. She had been out of sorts for the past few days and no matter how many times Minerva asked her if she was alright, there never came any proper reply.
"Tired?" asked Minerva, "I hope you don't have a busy weekend ahead of you, I'm not sure what you would look like on Monday if you did."
"Why thank you, Minerva. I did not realize I looked that bad, " replied Pomona, a slight edge to her voice, however, her shoulders sagged, "I'm sorry. That was rude, " she apologized, opening her eyes at last and looking back into her friend's emerald green eyes.
Minerva waved her hand vaguely, as though brushing aside Pomona's words like they had not affected her in the slightest. Then, waving her wand with a casual flick, she summoned her tartan biscuit tin, which zoomed into her outstretched hand seconds later. 'Biscuit?' she asked lightly, opening the tin and thrusting it in Pomona's direction.
"Thank you, " said Pomona, picking up a star-shaped shortbread, which had been lying on top of the pyramid of biscuits only moments previously.
"Not at all, " replied Minerva, choosing a square-shaped biscuit for herself, "Albus is always telling me that a mug of hot chocolate and a biscuit lift the spirits of those who feel down. Mind you I think he would rather have one of those muggle sweets he so adores, " added Minerva, giving an exasperated sigh as she thought of the pink, circular sweets with sherbet on the inside that Dumbledore had started to carry around in his pockets wherever he went.
Pomona chuckled, "Those small little circles with sherbet in the middle?"
"Flying saucers I think they're called. They used to sell them near my house in Caithness when I was a wee girl. I have never tried one but I don't think that's going to last for long. Not with Albus carrying them around like that anyway, " Minerva said, already picturing Albus offering her some the next day when their weekly chess game was due.
Pomona chuckled again and Minerva allowed herself a small smile. Relaxing in her chair she closed her eyes and felt the warmth of the fire spread over her until she felt so comfortable and calm she could almost have fallen asleep.
"I don't think I am the only one that is tired, " pointed out Pomona.
Minerva opened her eyes again, "I think we have a long year ahead of us I'm afraid, Pomona, " stated Minerva matter-of-factly, "I don't think I have ever felt so tired since the Prewett boys' were with us. I dread to think what the new Gryffindors are going to be like given their behaviour this week. "
"Do you mean Potter, Lupin, Pettigrew and Black? " asked Pomona, however, it was clear that she already knew the answer. Minerva nodded and Pomona continued, 'I have to say Gryffindor House does seem to attract a lot of troublemakers. First the Prewetts and now these boys! Do you know that one of them set off a load of fireworks during Herbology! First week of term as well!' exclaimed Pomona, shaking her head from side to side in disapproval, however, Minerva did not fail to notice the slight twitch in her friend's mouth. Clearly, part of herself was a little bit amused despite her trying to hide it under a disguise of disapproval.
"Well if you think that's bad then you're lucky, " harrumphed Minerva, "I don't think I have met anybody who breaks school rules as much as those four. I don't think I have had a proper's night sleep this week with them wandering around the castle after hours. "
"Hm, " agreed Pomona, "I think they are going to be a lot of work."
"For the next seven years! " sighed Minerva rubbing her eyes.
Pomona laughed, "Well at least I'm not their Head of House! "
Minerva gave her a cold sharp stare and pursed her lips. Then, her expression clearing, she heaving herself off her chair, smoothed down her robes and picked up her pointed hat, "Well, " she said tiredly, "Much as I would like to sit here for the rest of the evening, Albus has asked to see me. "
Pomona got up too and frowned, "What for? It's only the beginning of the year. "
"I don't know, " sighed Minerva, "he wouldn't tell me when I asked him, " she continued, a hint of frustration in her voice.
"He likes his secrets that man, " stated Pomona wisely, waving her wand and clearing away their mugs ad the biscuit tin, "good luck anyway. See you at dinner, Minerva. "
"See you later, Pomona, " said Minerva, looking quickly around her private quarters and closing the curtains so that the only source of light was from the crackling fire.
The door of her rooms snapped shut behind Pomona and Minerva took a deep breath in. Whatever Albus wanted to talk to her about, she was in no mood to have a long conversation with him. She had not felt this tired for a long time and truth be told all she really wished to do was go to bed never mind meeting with the Headmaster and Pomona for dinner.
Pressing her hands against her eyelids she leaned heavily against the fireplace before quickly shaking herself, extinguishing the fire and walking promptly out of the room locking the door behind her.
It had been an hour since she had arrived in Dumbledore's office however, Minerva was still trying to come to terms with all the information he had just dumped on her.
"But I don't understand, who is this Lord Voldemort? " asked Minerva, her eyebrows furrowed as she tried to process all of the information Dumbledore had given her.
"A student I once taught, "answered Dumbledore, standing up suddenly and beginning to pace around the room, his hands clasped behind his back, "before your time, " he added, waving his hand vaguely.
"And so"' prompted Minerva, twisting herself around in her chair to get a better view of the Headmaster.
Dumbledore took a deep breath in as though he was thinking whether or not he should give her more information. Finally, he seemed to come to a decision and he opened his mouth, "Minerva, did you read the Daily Prophet this morning? "
"Yes but I don't see what that has to do with, " suddenly she stopped, "Oh, " she said, realization dawning, "oh I see. You think he is behind all of the attacks abroad, don't you? "
Dumbledore sighed, "I am quite sure he is I'm afraid, Minerva. " He sat back down behind his desk and pressed the tips of his fingers together, which Minerva had noticed was what he always did when he was thinking.
"Have you talked to the Ministry about it? " she asked, however she already knew the answer to her question.
"I have and Eugenia Jenkins did not wish to do anything about it. " Dumbledore paused and closed his eyes for a few seconds, clearly, neither Minerva nor Pomona were not the only ones tired. "I am going to be away for a few days and I would like you to take care of the school while I am gone, " he said suddenly, standing up again and pacing the room.
Minerva blinked a few times before frowning when the information had sunk in, "Away? Where? What for? "
Dumbledore stopped pacing and turned to face the Deputy Headmistress. A fleeting expression of sadness, worry and perhaps even fear flicked through his face before he smiled, a small and tired smile, "To find the right answer to your previous question: who is Lord Voldemort? "
I hope you enjoyed this! Have a great day! :)