Big thanks to Captain Amelia, Laura Kay, ScullyCat Marie, The Silver Witch, Jestana, Child-of-the-Dawn, Mini_Minerva, Altra Palantir, CEA, PrincessWitch, Demus and petriebird18. Reviews do make a writers day- in other words: keep it up! Hope you enjoy part 2, I would expect the concluding part in the next few days.
#~**~#
"I'm sorry, Albus," said McGonagall gently, as the
two teachers sat down in chairs in front of the fire. "I'll go to Diagon Alley
tomorrow and get you some spell-o-tape."
"That's alright. I'll go myself," said Albus, smiling.
"You don't have a wand."
"Hand me yours."
McGonagall shook her head but handed the wand over anyway. "You know other people's wands don't work unless they're very compatible with you," she said. Dumbledore just smiled broadly.
He took off the scarf he was wearing, tapped it with McGonagall's wand, muttered something and then handed her a bunch of roses where the scarf had been.
"Fabulous!" cried McGonagall, looking extremely chuffed.
"And now," said Dumbledore, bowing down to McGonagall, "I shall bid you goodnight." And he swept out of the room looking most dashing.
#~**~#
Dumbledore couldn't sleep. Perhaps it was the presence of McGonagall in the next bedroom, or perhaps he was just suffering from insomnia. At any rate, Dumbledore could not bear to stay in bed any longer, tossing and turning every few minutes and so decided to go downstairs and get a cup of cocoa.
Dumbledore put on his dressing gown and crept down the narrow staircase, feeling his way along in the pitch darkness. Then he gently opened the door into the kitchen, cringing as its hinges creaked.
"Albus!"
"Minerva!"
"I didn't think you'd be awake," stammered McGonagall, trying not to blush on account of her tartan pyjamas.
"What are you doing?" asked Dumbledore, silently cursing the relative who had sent him a pink dressing gown last Christmas.
"I was a little hungry," explained McGonagall. Now that his attention had been drawn towards it, Dumbledore noticed the strong aroma of frying bacon.
"Would you like some bacon?" asked McGonagall tentatively.
"Yes! Very much!" exclaimed Dumbledore, all thoughts of a cup of cocoa having vanished from his head. He sat down at the table.
Ten minutes later, McGonagall presented Dumbledore with a bacon sandwich. Dumbledore would forever remember this sandwich as the perfect bacon sandwich. "You're an excellent cook," he said but McGonagall, who had merely used a simple cooking spell, laughed this away.
"I'll say goodnight… again…" said Dumbledore swallowing the last mouthful of sandwich, rising from his chair and walking to the door.
"Albus!"
"Yes?" said Dumbledore turning around.
McGonagall smiled sweetly. "Nice dressing gown. Pink is very becoming on you," she said.
"Thank you. In turn I must admire your charming tartan pyjamas," replied Dumbledore, leaving McGonagall blushing scarlet.
#~**~#
"Good morning!" cried Dumbledore, as McGonagall entered the sitting room at 10 O'clock precisely.
"Good morning," replied McGonagall. "And happy Christmas Eve-Eve."
"Is it the 23rd already?" said Dumbledore looking surprised. "With your leave, I would like to take your wand and do some shopping in Diagon Alley." While Dumbledore was quite capable of disapparating to London without a wand, it was not yet safe to travel around wizard communities in case one was attacked by one of the renegade Death-Eaters who refused to accept that Voldermort was dead.
"Of course," said McGonagall, smiling. A few minutes later Dumbledore had collected his hat and gloves (the scarf now existed as a bunch of roses) and disappeared into thin air. McGonagall waited for a few moments to check he would not reappear and then dashed up to her bedroom. From under her bed she produced a box labelled 'X-mas Decorations' and with an evil grin, wondered how long it would be before Filch noticed that a large amount of Hogwart's Christmas decorations had simply vanished overnight.
#~**~#
"Minerva, dear. Where are you?" called Dumbledore as he discarded his hat and gloves on the back of an armchair. He then looked suspiciously round the sitting room as though he had reappeared in the wrong house. Certainly, the sitting room he was in now bore no resemblance to the one he had left four hours ago.
"Minerva darling! It looks like Santa's Grotto in here!"
McGonagall appeared in the doorway. "Do you like it?" she asked anxiously as Dumbledore gazed around the room. Every spare inch of wall seemed to be draped with sparkling tinsel- red, gold, silver, green… The mantelpiece above the fire was hung with trails of holly and ivy and massive church candles were lit on every spare surface (a very big fire hazard in a log cabin, no doubt). A tiny bunch of mistletoe hung in the doorway.
"It's perfect," said Dumbledore earnestly. "Does the entire house-"
"-look like Santa's Grotto?" finished McGonagall. "Yes. Everywhere that could take Christmas decorations has them. And the door to the kitchen sings traditional Scottish Christmas carols when you open it."
Dumbledore laughed at this distinctly Minerva McGonagall touch. 'She is amazing,' he thought.
"What are we doing this afternoon?" asked McGonagall.
"I was hoping that we might go for a walk but we seem to be snowed in. Of course we could go to somewhere else but-"
"I like it
here," said McGonagall. "How do you fancy some good old Muggle television?"
Dumbledore said he fancied that very much and, at McGonagall's request, went to get some firewhisky to drink as they watched. He then spent a very pleasant hour watching McGonagall trying to work the television remote control.
Both of them were dismayed to find that absolutely nothing was on the TV (unless one is a fan of tired comedy repeats, the News and a nature programme featuring a close encounter with mating lions).
"I'll go to a video shop and get a video," suggested Dumbledore. It must be noted that it is an extremely difficult task for any wizard to negotiate their way around a video rental store, choose the correct sort of film and, on top of all these challenges, pay in Muggle money. And so Dumbledore did not return from this expedition, which took him to London for the second time that day, until four O'clock. In his hand he clutched a single video: Shrek.
"Would you like a sandwich, with your firewhisky?" asked McGonagall.
"Very much," said Dumbledore. "But I'll make the sandwiches- you work the video player."
Needless to say, it was another two hours and a trip to Hogwarts to borrow a battered copy of 'Easy Electronics For Baffled Wizards', before Shrek had started playing.
#~**~#
"I liked the Donkey!"
McGonagall shook her head emphatically. "No, the Princess was the best. She didn't half kick some ass!"
The two wizards were curled up together on the sofa; an extremely large and notably empty bottle of firewhisky was laid on the floor and the end credits of Shrek were playing on the television.
Unconsciously, McGonagall started singing the theme music to Shrek. Dumbledore forced himself to get up and staggered over to the kitchen, where he proceeded to boil the kettle for tea before remembering that his wand was no longer broken and he could brew tea the magical way.
"Then I saw your face,
Yeah, I'm a believer.
Not a trace
Of doubt in my mind-" Dumbledore found himself singing the theme music as well.
"Would you like tea, Minerva-love?" shouted Dumbledore, who was feeling the slightest bit drunk.
"I'd love tea, Albus-sweetheart!" replied McGonagall, who was also feeling the slightest bit drunk.
Dumbledore staggered back out of the kitchen with two cups of tea levitated in front of him. In the doorway to the sitting room he met McGonagall who was coming to drink her tea in the kitchen. Both of them stopped in the doorway, glanced upwards at the Mistletoe and then swallowed nervously.
'This is it,' thought McGonagall.
'Kiss her before it's too late,' thought Dumbledore. Then slowly and hesitantly, he lifted McGonagall's chin, leaned slowly down and touched their lips together in a gentle, fleeting kiss. Moving away, the two friends stared at each other with silly looks of love plastered across their grinning faces.
Sadly, the moment was spoiled when Dumbledore realised that he was very close to being sick and sprinted up the stairs to the only bathroom. On his way he knocked the two levitating cups of tea flying and managed to scold McGonagall, who quickly placed a cooling charm on the arm that had been hit by flying tea.
#~**~#
When Dumbledore finally left the bathroom thirty minutes later, he felt light-headed as one always does after being repeatedly sick. He leapt down the stairs four at a time and dashed into the sitting room. There he found Minerva McGonagall sprawled across the sofa, fast asleep and snoring gently. Deciding that he felt quite well again, Dumbledore picked McGonagall up and carried her carefully upstairs to her room. Then he laid her on her bed and covered her in a spare blanket. "Night darling," he whispered as he turned out the light.
