Minerva stretched leisurely before turning over and snuggling deeper into the rumpled sheets, trying to hold onto the rather vivid dream she had been having. The sun was just beginning to peek through the gap in the heavy burgundy drapes that covered the far wall of their chambers, announcing the beginning of another day, Monday to be precise.
Minerva groaned and buried her face deeper into the pillow, pulling the blankets closer around her. She may love her job, but ever since her school days she had hated Mondays with a passion, and the last thing she wanted to do was deal with inattentive children. There was just something about that first weekday that set her teeth on edge. Lazily, she stretched an arm out, expecting to land on a warm body, but instead she found cooled sheets and a discarded nightshirt.
"And it just keeps getting better," she thought wryly as her hand slid upward toward the pillow. Her slender fingers wrapped around a piece of parchment, and for the first time that morning her eyes opened as the usually graceful woman flopped on her back.
Good morning love,
As you have probably guessed, Cornelius has owled me for another meeting this morning, and if you're reading this, than I have yet to return. I regret that I couldn't be there to welcome another glorious morning with you properly, but it would seem our dear Minister is determined not to have an original thought, and you are just to beautiful as you sleep to wake for a goodbye. Perhaps if I informed Cornelius of just what I have to leave he would be less inclined to call. I will return as soon as I can, but in the mean time, just try to avoid Severus until you have had at least your morning coffee. I would prefer not to have to spend my afternoon trying to transfigure him back like last week. Although, I will admit he did make a fine penguin. So, until I see you again, I am now and forever,
Yours,
A.
A smile flitted across Minerva's face as she remembered Severus screeching as he waddled down the corridor. He knew better than to aggravate her before breakfast, and he still was having trouble staying away from the fish during meals. The smile faded as she thought back to Albus. Despite the humor of his note, she knew the constant summons on his time from so many people bothered him. There had been more than one evening ruined because the Minister, or the Wizengamot had required his attention. He was a great man to be sure, the best she had ever known, but a man never the less, and it seemed that most of their world had forgotten that simple fact. The small brass clock on the night table, a gift from her parents for Albus' last birthday, told her she still had an hour before she needed to be up, so, pulling the stray nightshirt close, she inhaled that unique mix of lemon and spice that was her husband and drifted back to sleep, the man she adored filling her dreams. It would only be a few short hours before she truly had a reason to hate Mondays.