Albus Dumbledore was slightly panicking as he looked down at the empty sheet of parchment. 'I have to write to her…' His desk was filled with balls of paper.
He stared into the air for a few moments, chewing the back of his quill. The he started to write:
'My dearest Minerva,
How are you doing? I hope you feel at home in Finland and that the Project turned out to be everything you expected it to be.
Hogwarts is all right, although it's been quiet here without you. The students miss you, especially the Gryfindors.
I haven't yet found a new Transfiguration Teacher. There seems to be no-one who can live up to your standards…'
He reread the lines again and shook his head. He couldn't possibly send her this. This letter would only make her feel guilty. And besides from that, she wasn't to know how he truly felt about her and how much he missed her.
He tore the sheet of parchment in two and started again
'Dear Professor McGonagall,
How are you doing? I sincerely hope the Project turned out to be everything you expected…'
Disgusted he looked down at the line. 'Dear Professor McGonagall…? What in the name of Merlin was wrong with him?
It was now the 16th of November. She had been away for two and a half month and he still hadn't managed to write her a letter. He had spent many afternoons at his Office staring at empty sheets of parchment. If he did manage to write something down, the result usually found its way to the bin. And now, two and a half month later she would receive a letter that would start with 'Dear Professor McGonagall…'
Albus opened the drawer of his desk and took out a fresh sheet of parchment. He started another time.
'Dear Minerva.
How are you doing? I hope you feel at home in Finland and that the Project turned out to be everything you expected it to be.
On Hogwarts everything is just as usual. It's extremely cold for the time of the year. We've even had some snow already. Luckily it was wet snow. The wolves in the Forbidden Forrest begin to feel uneasy and hungry. They are coming closer to the school grounds. Last week they killed three of Hagrids chickens…'
Chickens…, he was talking about chickens! This was Minerva McGonagall, his best friend. He had known her for sixty years. There was a time he could talk to her about everything and now he was writing her a letter about chickens!
Fawkes made a soft, disconsolate sound. It sounded exactly like he felt. Heart broken and alone. He pushed all the balls of parchment aside and began to write.
'My dear Minerva,
I miss you. It's as simple as this. I miss you.
Hogwarts is no longer Hogwarts if you're not here.
When you left, you took its heart with you and left the castle frozen.
It's cold and lonely here without you.
I am cold and lonely without you.
You took my heart away when you left to Finland.
Please, come home. I love you.
Yours Truly,
Albus'
Now he had a letter, but one he could never send to her. With a sad face he put the letter in his drawer and cleaned his quill away. It was no use. He decided to go for a walk, maybe that would help him to clear his mind.
Outside his Office he ran into Jane. "What have you been doing all afternoon?" she asked curiously.
"I've been writing a letter to Minerva", he answered, hoping that she would ask no further.
"All afternoon!" Jane exclaimed. "That must be a long letter".
"An extremely long one", he replied miserably.
***
Hundreds of miles away, in Finland, Minerva McGonagall stepped out bed with a deep sigh. Another day. She was here for almost three months and still she didn't feel at home. She missed Hogwarts terribly. If felt as if a stone laid on her stomach, eating was difficult, talking was difficult. She even had trouble breathing. Apart from that she had a strange, burning feeling behind her eyes all day, as if she was about the cry every moment.
As long as she was working, she was able to handle it. The Project was very interesting and they achieved satisfactory results. As long as she could concentrate on spells and potions she didn't felt so lost, but as soon as she went to bed at night she began to toss and turn. She spent night after night lying awake and thinking of Hogwarts. How would the castle look at this time of the year? She thought about her students. Who would teach Transfiguration now?
Slowly she got dressed and walked towards the dining room. An other reason why she didn't feel at home here was because of decoration. It was completely different from her own taste. Everywhere she looked she saw antlers, stuffed heads of animals or carpets of animal skin. Somehow the eyes of the stuffed heads were enchanted so they could follow her around. Minerva felt watched everywhere she went. 'Quit it', she muttered when she walked past a pair of extremely penetrating, yellow tiger eyes.
The dining room was crowded. Minerva sat down next to Sheila. "Slept well?' the younger woman asked.
"Fine, thank you", Minerva answered, hoping she sounded convincing. She played a bit with her dinner while she looked around the table. She got along with Shaun and Sheila fairly well, but somehow she didn't connect with the rest of the team. She knew it was partly her own fault. The team spend most evenings together in the livingroom, but Minerva found her thoughts always wandering towards Hogwarts. Physically she might be in Finland, her thoughts where in the Staff Room at Hogwarts.
She just decided to have a bit of toast after all, when the owls flew into the room. Minerva shoots up. A large, brown owl dropped three letters on her plate. Minerva looked at them. The first one came from Jane. She wrote her a few times each week to keep her updated on everything that was going on at Hogwarts. The second letter came from Hermione Granger. She wrote regularly too. The last letter was without a consignor. It was addressed to 'Ms. M. McGonagall' in a handwriting she didn't recognise.
Minerva sank back in her chair. Tears of disappointment and sadness welled up in her eyes. Nothing again. No letter from Albus again. She was here for almost three months and still he hadn't written her a single letter. At first she wrote to him regularly. But when he didn't answer her letters she eventually had stopped sending them.
'Change is a good thing', people often said and Minerva thought that in this case that was certainly true. She had been a teacher at Hogwarts for almost forty years. Maybe it was just too long. Maybe it had been time for her to leave, several years ago. At least Albus seemed to think so. Since she went away she hadn't heard from him at all. Either he forgot about her, or he didn't care. Anyway, he didn't bother to keep in touch with her.
In an attempt to hide her feelings, Minerva quickly opened the anonymous letter. She took out a piece of parchment.
'You should have stayed in England. You can work until you drop down, but in the end, we will take credit for it. And as far as your concern, we have other plans for you!'