Author's Note: I'm sorry this is so late! For some reason this chapter was really hard for me to write (the beginning at least) and I rewrote it completely yesterday. Hmm. It's a ponderable mystery. Disclaimer: JKR owns everything but the plot. Oh, and also, I'm a hobo. *holds up sigh cardboard sign* WILL WRITE FOR REVIEWS!
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ "Man, I'll tell you what, these House Elves know how to brew!" Annabelle was downing her seventh glass of punch, acting rather tipsy, and drawing some curious stares from the surrounding tables. Poppy giggled and said, "Annabelle, the punch isn't even alcoholic!" Annabelle flashed her a wicked smile and pulled a silver flask from somewhere in the folds of her gown. "It is now." she stated. Gwen gasped. "YOU SPIKED THE PUNCH?!?"
"SSH! Hush up Gwen!" Annabelle clamped a hand over Gwen's mouth, giggling. "Spiked is such a strong word. It's more like I… improved the punch. That's it, improved."
Now they were really drawing stares from the surrounding tables. Minerva tried to hide behind her hand, as they happened to be surrounded by some very attractive young men and she could do without the label of "the girl with the crazy friends." Really, she just wanted to get through Hogwarts alive.
Poppy grabbed the flask, shook it, and said, "It's empty. Belle, what was this full of?"
"A teeny tiny bit of Icelandic Dragon Scotch." Annabelle replied with a guilty look, her hand still firmly clamped over Gwen's mouth.
Minerva was horrified. "Annabelle! How could you? Do you have any idea how much trouble we'd be in if one of the teachers found out? "
"We? You're the not one who improved the punch darling."
"No, but we might never be allowed a dance again!"
Annabelle let go of Gwen, swung an arm around Minerva's shoulders, and said "Lighten up, Min! Nobody's going to find out!" She then murmured in her ear, "I'm not going to tarnish your perfect reputation. Professor Dumbledore wouldn't like that too much, would he? But maybe a little bit of a rebellious side is what you need Min! You know, to liven things up a bit?"
Minerva grabbed Annabelle's hand around her shoulder and supported her waist so she acted as a crutch for her friend, who was clearly intoxicated. " Oh, for the love of—Annabelle, you're slurring. I think you've done enough lightening up for the both of us tonight." She addressed the other girls; "I'm taking her back up to Gryffindor Tower before she decides to do something else fun like burn down the Great Hall. Poppy, could you help me?" Poppy nodded and stood to support Annabelle's other side. "We'll be back in about half an hour."
Gwen gave her consent, and the three young women started to make their way through the crowd of colorful dress robes and glittering gowns. "Man, the Hogwarts staff sure knows how to throw a party!" Annabelle was gazing at the ceiling like she had never seen it before. Poppy rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Annabelle, I swear that if you weren't my friend I would hex you here and now. However you are my friend, though when you pull stunts like this I seriously wonder why." Minerva continued her best friend's train of thought. "You are also intoxicated, therefore we have a moral obligation to take care of you, no matter how much we would rather stay here and socialize." Annabelle looked from Poppy on her left to Minerva on her right, and said, "You use big words." Poppy replied with a slap to the back of her head.
"Ouch! What was that for?" Annabelle asked incredulously.
"For being irritating. Your worst traits come out when you're drunk." Poppy replied crossly.
"Do not!" whined Annabelle.
"You sound like a child." said Minerva.
"Do not!"
"You're proving our point." Poppy pointed out.
"Am not!"
"Annabelle, stop talking." Minerva remarked.
Though she was still annoyed, Minerva had to agree. The Hogwarts staff did indeed know how to throw a party. The decorations were lovely. The ceiling of the Great Hall was clear and full of bright stars. The traditional floating candles had been discarded in favor of hundreds of orbs of light hanging just above the heads of the tallest students. The floor was carpeted in soft white petals, and the walls seemed to glow because the entire hall had been painted a champagne color gold. Even though there were no windows in the Great Hall, the perfumed fragrance of freshly cut flowers filled the warm spring air that was circulating, and on every single one of the tables that ringed the dance floor was a bouquet filled with enchanted flowers than changed colors to match the mood of the conversation.
The music was good too. Classical, at the moment, but it would surely morph into something more popular and danceable as the party wore on into the early morning. Minerva glanced over her shoulder and watched Gwen smile and take the hand of a charming Ravenclaw boy. She saw Gwen stand and allow herself to be led onto the golden dance floor, and the couple began to waltz. Minerva turned her attention back to the crowd she was trying to navigate, but her thoughts were still on the dance floor with her classmates dancing the night away. She longed to be dancing. Any dance would be nice, a fun way to spend time, but what she really wished for was to dance with the one man she couldn't. She let a sad smile form on her lips and thought, "I'm the right girl at the wrong time." But, never one for self-pity, she pushed the thought out of her head.
After repeating "excuse me" "sorry" and "pardon me" probably 20 times, the trio finally broke free of the crowd. They made their way out of the Great Hall and into one of their school's many open-air hallways. The air was much cooler outside, but still pleasantly warm. The small tree in the courtyard caught each girl's eye, and they agreed when Poppy said, "Come on, let's take a closer look." Annabelle seemed to have sobered up slightly and was staring at the tree with fascination.
"What is it?" whispered Poppy.
"A tree." replied Annabelle, as if Poppy had just asked a very stupid question.
"I know it's a tree Annabelle."
"Well then you should have been more specific with your question..."
Minerva blocked out her friends' bickering, completely mesmerized by the small tree that had become a living work of art. It was glowing with light, but covered in ice. It looked as if light was seeping out of every pore in the tree and flowing somewhere else on the tree to be absorbed again. A layer of ice that covered the tree contained the liquid light. It glittered as if it was crystal. The leaves, the trunk, the branches, everything was encased in sparkling ice.
Walking up to the side of the tree, Minerva placed her palm on the surface of the ice. To her surprise it was warm to the touch, hot even. And it felt like touching rushing water. She could feel the energy of the light rushing throughout the tree and back. "It's incredible." She whispered, completely in awe.
"I'm glad you like it."
Minerva's pulse jumped. She'd have recognized that voice even if the wind had been howling and the rain had been beating down. As it was the warm breeze was just strong enough to pull a few wisps of hair free from her updo. The voice danced along the damp spring air, gay and tickling her ears, wrapping her in a warm comfort... "Snap out of it Min. Stay in control." Minerva mentally shook herself, and then thought "Why does this always happen to me?" as she realized she was flushing.
She took a deep breath and turned around a second later than Annabelle and Poppy. She spied a figure leaning against the entrance to the courtyard, half in the shadows. He stepped forward and walked over toward the girls and the tree.
"What do you mean Professor?" asked Poppy. "Did you do this?"
Albus Dumbledore smiled. "Indeed I did." he replied. "It was tricky, mind you, but I think it turned out quite well. I was in charge of courtyard decorations."
"It's beautiful, sir."
"Thank you Miss Pomfrey. I thought it matched the Great Hall quite well. Speaking of, why aren't you girls in the Great Hall enjoying the festivities?"
Poppy looked sheepish. "Um, Annabelle has a really bad headache. We're taking her back up to the dormitory."
A look of concern appeared on Professor Dumbledore's face. "Can I be of any assistance? Does she need escorted to the Hospital Wing?"
Poppy's eyes widened as she realized what a fix she had gotten herself into. "Oh, no Professor! Absolutely not. No."
Professor Dumbledore looked confused for a second, and then stared at Annabelle for a tense moment. He relieved all three girls when he cracked a wide smile and chuckled. "I see. Well, you'd best take care of her then."
Poppy stared at him adoringly. She couldn't believe that he had let them off the hook when he clearly knew that Annabelle was drunk, but Professor Dumbledore was not your average teacher by any stretch of the imagination. "Yes sir, we will. Because we take care of our friends when they're in need, but we'll also give them a kick in the pants if that's what it takes. That's what friends do." She was staring straight at Minerva when she said this, and Minerva had a sinking feeling that Poppy was going to throw her under the bus.
"Well said Miss Pomfrey."
"Min, I can handle Annabelle. You stay here. I know you've been meaning to ask Professor Dumbledore about… something." She raised her blonde eyebrows slightly and shot Minerva a look that said, "I got you this far, don't screw it up." She grabbed Annabelle's arm again and practically pulled her along saying, "Come on Bell. Let's get back up to the Tower." Annabelle mumbled something, and then Minerva and her Professor were alone.