Summary: Minerva McGonagall awaits the return of a certain wizard on Christmas Eve. Takes place shortly after baby Harry's "defeat" of Voldemort. Precedes The Burdens of a Lioness.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. No, really, I don't.

Mele Kalikimaka everyone! Merry Christmas! Oh, and Happy Hanukah and Happy Kwanza too! Sorry, the Hawaiians don't have a word for Hanukah or Kwanza…or at least I don't think they do…

This is just a little one-shot for Christmas time. Hope you all enjoy it!

Also, if you have time and you like reading Snape fics, please check out Mental Cruciatus.

saiyanwizardgurl

Back In Time

"Where are you going?"

"The International Confederation of Wizards has been called together for an emergency meeting. Apparently, there are some negative aftereffects of the war occurring across Europe and are flooding into Asia and the Americas."

"When will you be back?"

"I don't know."

"It's nearly Christmas, Albus!"

"I know, Minerva; I'm sorry. I'll do my best to make it back in time."

…………………

It had been one week. One week since he had left. One lonely week. And she had not heard from him at all. No owls or Firecalls. Not even a note. Now it was late Christmas Eve, and Minerva McGonagall was lying in bed, wide awake, waiting for her husband to return.

She rolled over and looked at the clock on the bedside table. Eleven-thirty. "Where are you, Albus?" she sighed, sitting up. The room was quite warm for a winter evening, but she felt strangely cold inside. Wrapping her arms around her torso, she stood up. Maybe some light reading would help her to fall asleep.

The Transfigurations teacher quietly pushed open the door that led to her private quarters. She smiled as her eyes met the tiny creature dusting the bookshelves. "Good evening, Minky," she said.

The house-elf spun around. "Professor McGonagall! I was not seeing you!"

"It's all right; I was just getting a book."

"Begging your pardon, Professor, but why are you being up at such a late hour?"

The Transfigurations teacher looked down at the book she had grabbed. The Theory of Advanced Transfigurations. He had given it to her last Christmas. "Oh, I was just…just waiting for Albus to return."

Minky gave the witch a knowing look. "I'm sure he will be coming back soon. He is always being happy with you on Christmas."

The Transfigurations teacher smiled. "I hope you're right." She walked to the door to their private quarters, but stopped when she heard the house-elf speak.

"Happy Christmas, Professor McGonagall," Minky called after her.

The Transfigurations teacher turned to face the house-elf. "Thank you, Minky. Happy Christmas to you, too."

Closing the door behind her, she strode over to the bed and sat back down. McGonagall propped open The Theory of Advanced Transfigurations on her knees. She began to read: On the theory of self-transfiguration…

She sighed and shut the book. "I suppose it doesn't work when you know the book by heart," she said to herself.

The Transfigurations teacher put the book on the bedside table and looked up. She noticed a pair of robes was draped across the back of the desk chair. His robes. His midnight blue robes embroidered with gold and silver stars. She had given them to him for Christmas two years ago, and he only wore them on certain special occasions. Like when they had decorated their Christmas tree.

Hagrid had brought it up to the headmaster's office, and her husband had set it up in their rooms. He had insisted that they decorate it the Muggle way this year. She had insisted that they decorate with magic. In the end, they had compromised. The lights were set up with magic and everything else was done the Muggle way. She had to admit, decorating a Christmas tree without magic was not all that bad. They only ran into a bit of trouble when Dumbledore had decided that it was more fun to throw the popcorn at her than it was to string it. The little white crunchy puffs had littered the ground by the time they had finished.

She stood up again and walked over to the Christmas tree. The fairy lights were glowing softly. She began examining the ornaments, and her eyes fell upon a small glass crescent moon. On it was a tabby cat and a phoenix peacefully sleeping side by side. She took the ornament off the branch it was on and gently stroked the phoenix's head. It trilled softly. She sighed and put it back.

McGonagall decided that she should put away her husband's robes. She took them off the back of the chair. They were warm. They smelled of chocolate, lemon drops, and evergreen. She brought them up to her cheek and inhaled deeply. They were very soft. It was almost as if the traits of their owner had been permanently implanted in them. She sat down on the bed and held them close, wishing that the man that wore them was in her arms.

Suddenly, she felt something wet drop onto her hand. Bringing her hand up to her face, she felt her wet cheeks. More tears streamed down her face. Her shoulders began to shake, and she buried her face in her husband's robes.

Then, she nearly jumped as two warm, strong arms laced around her thin frame. "What's wrong, Minerva?" murmured Albus Dumbledore, brushing his lips against her wet cheek.

The Transfigurations teacher spun around. "Albus?" She stared at him for a moment before throwing her arms around his neck, nearly knocking both of them over the other side of the bed. "Oh, Albus – " she cried.

"Easy, love. Calm down."

"I missed you so much."

"I know. I missed you, too."

"Why didn't you – "

"I'm sorry, Minerva. No one was allowed to have any contact with the outside. We were near the heart of the uprisings in Russia, it would have been too risky to try and communicate with any outsiders."

The Transfigurations teacher snuggled into her husband's beard. "I couldn't sleep without you."

"I know the feeling. I'm completely exhausted." He gently pulled her down so that they were lying on the bed. He pulled the covers over them and brushed his lips against hers. "I know I said that I'd try to make it back for Christmas. I hope I'm not too late."

"No, you made it back in time." She kissed him tenderly and stroked his cheek. When she pulled back, her eyes met with his blue orbs, and she found herself once again captivated by their depths. She felt another tear roll down her face as she snuggled into his beard. "Just in time."

"I'm glad."

"Happy Christmas, Albus."

"Happy Christmas, Minerva."

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