As she had expected to be woken up any moment because the little dragon had been found, Minerva had not slept well. The fact that, by morning, none of the ghosts had shown up to give her the news made her mood even worse. Although tea usually did wonders to lift her spirits, the excessive amount of leaves that had sunk to the bottom of her cup also reminded her of Sybill's criticism the other day. Minerva would have expected her to be more supportive. Things might be a bit out of hand right now, but there had been a time when she could have relied on Sybill for help or at least understanding.

Instead, Sybill had snapped at her as if she held some kind of grudge against her. Minerva hadn't thought that this was how it was between them, despite their many disagreements. In fact, it had felt as if their friendship had been somewhat restored after she had stood up for Professor Trelawney against that horrible Umbridge, three years ago. And after that evening when she had received Clinton's letter about Elphinstone…

Yet even when it was at its strongest, it had turned out that their relationship was fragile. Changeable. While Minerva generally looked back on the time they had been together with fondness, those moments of happiness had ended rather abruptly. Once again because Sybill could be so insufferably unreasonable.

It had been an autumn evening. After a rather long day of teaching, she had returned to their rooms, where she had been met by a gale of screams and accusations. How Sybill had thought it had meant something, that she had been important to Minerva, could trust her, while all this time she had been lied to. That of course she had never been enough and she should have known. She should have trusted all the Signs she had seen about their relationship. And the fact that she had never even dared to discuss those Signs with Minerva because she would only have ridiculed her, that alone should have told her enough, shouldn't it?

Minerva had just stood there, completely at a loss for what was happening. She had tried to get a few words in, in an attempt to calm Sybill down, but Sybill had not given her the chance, crying that Minerva shouldn't interrupt her this time and that she was done listening to her because she knew better now. As she continued, Sybill's yelling had become mingled with more and more insults and sobs. Then, finally, she had angrily wiped away her tears as she stormed out, pushing Minerva aside and slamming the door behind her.

Feeling as if she had been caught in a hurricane, Minerva had managed the few steps to her bed on shaky legs before she sank down, trying to figure out what had just happened. Then she had noticed the dusty rectangular box next to her on the covers. The lid was askew, so Sybill must have opened it, resulting in her horrible rage. Yet until Minerva had pushed the lid off, she didn't remember what was inside. Frowning, she took out some of the old letters. It was strange to see Dougal's once so familiar handwriting again. Most of these letters dated back more than thirty years, the paper having turned yellow and the ink becoming rather vague in places. She had kept the box under her bed when she had returned to Hogwarts to teach, but not taken it out since some time before she had married Elphinstone. In fact, she hadn't even moved it to their Hogsmeade home, having forgotten all about it. But here it was, stirring up old memories of the Muggle she had once loved so dearly, but for whom she couldn't have given up her life.

Even after reading through some of the letters, Minerva hadn't understood why Sybill would have reacted to them so fiercely. There had been no revelation of any character trait of Minerva's that Sybill was not yet familiar with, and obviously Minerva had never given any strong opinions about Divination to a Muggle… In the end she had decided that she would give Sybill some time to calm down, and then talk to her the next day.

But when she had gone up to the North Tower the following evening, it had quickly become clear that Sybill was far from calm. Though the shouting was now replaced by more tears and swigs from a bottle of sherry, Sybill had pulled away from every attempt Minerva had made to comfort her and told her to stay away.

Only a week later, Minerva had managed to convince Sybill to listen to her long enough to ask her what had happened. At Sybill's incredulous huffs, Minerva had explained that she had received the letters before she even came to Hogwarts. Had Sybill not noticed their aged appearance? Surely she didn't think Minerva had been writing to a man behind her back. Yet it had turned out that this had been exactly what Sybill thought.

At that point, it had been Minerva's turn to get angry, disappointed as she was that after all the time they had spent together, Sybill did not know her any better or trust her any further than that. Sybill had shouted back that, if that really was all there was to it, Minerva shouldn't have acted all secretive, hiding the box under the very bed they had shared and never speaking a word about Dougal McGregor.

Minerva had actually laughed at how ridiculous that statement was. Once again she had taken the time to explain that her and Dougal's relationship was thirty years ago and how the letters now merely were a souvenir of a friend long gone. But Sybill had seemed determined to be angry with her.

Even when both women had calmed down, they had remained rather awkward around each other. On the few occasions that Sybill couldn't avoid leaving her tower, they treated each other as distant acquaintances. A few times, Minerva had considered to try and talk it all out, but she couldn't find it in herself to take the first step. Sybill had shown clearly enough that she didn't really trust Minerva. If she wanted to discuss the reason she had run out, Minerva would be available, but Minerva wasn't going to force her into it. If she tried that, it would probably all go wrong again.

Obviously Sybill had never mentioned the row again, nor anything else from the time they had been more than friends. Not until that vague hint two weeks ago. Eventually Sybill had stopped coming to the Great Hall at all, and the times they did talk, Minerva found that they had reverted to the cool ways of the days when Sybill had first taken up her job.

Suddenly, a loud knock startled Minerva out of her brooding.

"Professor?" Hagrid called. "Can I have a word?"

"Of course," Minerva answered. "Come in."

He squeezed in through the door and then stood for a moment, looking a bit uncertain. "I's jus'... We've bin lookin' everywhere. Me an' the ghosts. And we jus' can't find Lavender anywhere an'…" he sniffed and wiped away a tear that had been forming at the corner of his eye. "I'm really worried abou' her. She's really small… Smaller than mos' o' the others. I'm afraid she's gotten ou' through a crack or summat... She could be stuck somewhere…"

"Lavender?" the voice of Albus Dumbledore interrupted. "But Miss Brown was one of the fallen, wasn't she? How can a ghost be stuck?"

"Oh… Hagrid means the dragon," Minerva said, turning to the portrait. "I didn't tell you yet…"

She quickly filled Albus in on what had happened in the past few days. Then she directed herself to Hagrid again.

"I'm sure Lavender will be found. Or she might find her way back by herself, if she gets hungry. These creatures certainly seem clever enough," she said.

Hagrid nodded, but still seemed very concerned. "O' course, Professor," he said. "Yeh're righ'. Sorry fer makin' such a fuss, bu' they really are jus' little babies."