Minerva had almost forgotten how comfortable it could be to sit by the fire without needing coats, scarves, hats or any other extra garments. She could hold a quill without feeling like her fingers might freeze to it and the ink no longer solidified in the pots. Instead, the fire made the emerald green words gleam prettily on the parchment as she continued writing, now and then sipping her tea. The contents of her letters made her feel even better. It was good to be able to invite those students and other inhabitants of the castle back who had dreaded spending Christmas away from the school. With the dragons installed in their new homes since the previous evening, it was now safe to say that she could welcome the students with open arms on Christmas Day. And to nicely warm common rooms, too.

Lavender was chasing her own tail in her lair, which had been hung in the corner of Minerva's office. The poor animal had had a terrible fright the previous day, and it had not wanted to leave Minerva's side, constantly hiding under her collar at first. A few more dragons were needed to keep the Head's office warm, but they had flown off, probably in search of more bacon.

It had been quite a scene. Startled by the din in the North Tower, Minerva had been on her way there when suddenly Sybill had run into her. She had hidden herself behind Minerva, pressing her face into the back of her shoulder so she didn't have to see the "monster" that was behind her.

Yet little Lavender had been nowhere in sight. After calming Sybill enough that she would let go of her, Minerva had gone up to the classroom to retrieve the terrified little dragon. But at the sight of the room, she had let out a loud gasp. Everything had been wrecked. Not one table was undamaged, the chairs had been tipped over and the shawls that had been hanging so neatly were ripped down from the walls. She had felt a pang of disappointment when she saw that even the set of pink patterned teacups, her birthday present for Sybill so many years ago, had been caught in the demolition of the room. After keeping their honorary place on Sybill's shelf for all that time, two of the cups lay on the ground, broken, and Winky was sitting in the middle of the shards, crying.

"Winky can't catch it," she sobbed. "It's too fast. Winky tried and tried, but it keeps hiding…"

It had taken some time to calm the elf down enough that she wouldn't go after the dragon again. Then Minerva had repaired everything she could, leaving it to Winky to put it all back in its proper place. After scooping little Lavender out of the bag of runestones were it had taken shelter, she made her way back down. Once again she was stopped by Sybill, whose words almost couldn't be heard over the dragon's panicked squeaks, though the Divination teacher at least seemed slightly less hysterical.

"I am telling you, Minerva. I will not accept one of those… things… in my tower. I'd rather freeze to death than be terrorised by these beasts." Sybill had huffed and was about to stalk off when she thought of something else. "I'll be keeping an eye on them, though," she had said. "I will not let you jeopardise the safety of the students for the sake of convenience." She had directed a final glare at Lavender, who had slipped under Minerva's collar again, shivering. Then she had left, muttering about Signs of the End.

A loud squeak shook Minerva out of her thoughts as the other dragons returned, and she put her finished letter aside.

"They really are very cute," Albus observed. "And they seem to have settled in nicely."

He chuckled as Cedric landed on Fawkes' old perch and snapped at the Christmas bauble that hung from the red ribbon tied around his belly. He couldn't quite reach it and almost fell off. Cho hovered in front of him, apparently not as bothered by the mistletoe that had been fastened to her tail.

"Yes," Minerva answered with a small smile. "Decorating them was of course Hagrid's idea. I think it's quite an original way to make the castle look festive. And according to Hagrid, the dragons like to feel pretty."

"I guess we all do, once in a while," Dumbledore said, straightening the wreath that had somehow appeared around his hat since last time she had seen him.

Minerva gave him an amused look.

"Now you have the temperature in the castle restored, maybe you should consider taking care of the frostiness that has been separating friends for far too long," he said, leaning back and closing his eyes.

Minerva raised her eyebrows. "What?"

Dumbledore just smiled and began humming his favourite Christmas carol.

"Albus…" Minerva said, rolling her eyes. But in fact, she didn't need an explanation. In the time after Sybill had ended their relationship so dramatically, Albus had urged Minerva multiple times to go and talk to her. One time she had snapped why it was so important to him that their relationship would be fixed. He had just smiled sadly and said something about a life with fewer regrets.

But Minerva had never really regretted ignoring his advice when it came to Sybill. She had always believed that the damage was done and accepted that there were simply too many differences between them to make the relationship work. Besides, Sybill was so much younger. It would be better to leave her alone, free to meet other people who could probably cause her more happiness.

On the other hand, Sybill had never seemed interested in taking advantage of that freedom. Instead she had isolated herself, drinking more and more. And Minerva had thrown herself into her work, telling herself that the loss of companionship wasn't so bad when it meant that she could prepare lessons until past midnight without anyone ever nagging that she should come to bed.

Of course, Albus had now spoken of friendship rather than their relationship. And perhaps, if she was honest with herself, Minerva did regret that that had never been restored. Never mind the lazy evenings cuddling by the fire, the safe feeling waking up next to another person and the small, loving gestures; what she missed most was someone to confide in, a friend. While Minerva got along with most of Hogwarts' teachers, it had been different with Sybill. Easier. And the evening they had spent together, after Minerva had received Clinton's letter, had reminded her how nice it could be.

But then there had been the issue with the dragons, making Minerva doubt Sybill was interested in taking up their friendship. Instead of talking about why she loathed the dragons so much, she had accused Minerva of putting the entire school at risk by using them. Threatened to write the school board as though she really thought Minerva's position didn't suit her. All because of some irrational fear - because really, what was a dragon of that size going to do that was worse than scorching a blanket? Yet Sybill had run as though she truly believed her life was in danger.

Minerva frowned. What if, rather than being difficult for the sake of it, Sybill had really thought that? Or at least really been as scared as she seemed? There were phobias about much stranger things than dragons. Minerva had seen that often enough in her Transfiguration lessons - people suddenly screaming when she turned a button into a beetle or stiffening as she turned herself into a cat. If that really was at the base of Sybill's fierce reaction, Minerva had in fact been quite tactless. The encounter with a live dragon in her very own classroom, usually a safe haven to Sybill, might have been more shocking than Minerva had imagined. It might even explain why Sybill had not told her about her fears. If she herself felt that she was overreacting, but simply couldn't stop the beast's presence upsetting her as it did…

But it was Sybill. She hardly needed something like that to be unreasonable. That had been clear enough when she had found Dougal's letters. It wasn't as if she had been so afraid then...

Minerva gasped. No, no one would be afraid of letters. But Sybill had read them. She had read declarations of love to the woman with whom she had been in a relationship. Turns of phrase that implied the words were an answer to things Minerva had said. And she had believed that Minerva loved him. She had panicked, thought that she was not enough and that she would lose her.

Of course she had been scared. And in time, Minerva could have put things right if she had not stubbornly believed that Sybill was unnecessarily dramatic. She had been a fool.