20 February 1985

Pomona stopped squeezing her Bobotuber plant and glanced over at Minerva who was sitting across the table and trying to mark some essays. They had been sitting in the staffroom for the last half an hour, keen to make the most of its emptiness – all other professors had classes at this time and Dumbledore no longer came in as often since Filius had eaten the last sweet in the communal jar. However, far from profiting from this unusual and uncommon calmness, the quiet had been regrettably punctuated by Minerva's unhappy sneezes.

"I don't know what you're still doing here," Pomona said bluntly, as she went back to squeezing the pods on her plant. "I'm surprised Poppy hasn't already sent you home. I hope you're not hiding from her."

"A few sneezes here and there are hardly worth worrying about," Minerva answered. "Besides, I need to finish marking these essays if-" she broke off suddenly and coughed several times into her handkerchief. It was painful and did not sound in any way good. To make matters worse it only exaggerated the throbbing in the back of her head.

Minerva rested her head on the wall behind her as Pomona shook her head.

"A bit more than a few sneezes, I think," Pomona said, magicking a glass phial to collect the Bobotuber pus with. "There's a time and a place, Minerva, to accept defeat. I believe that this is one of those times."

"The seventh years are never going to forgive me," Minerva replied croakily, now with her eyes closed. "They've been badgering me for days trying to wheedle out what marks their essays have achieved."

Pomona sighed. "Give yourself a break, dear. You only collected the essays on Wednesday. I think your class can wait until Monday," she added, flicking her wand so that her Minerva's belonging gathered themselves and slotted themselves neatly into her bag. "Now please go. All you're going to miss is the Quidditch match."

"I would've liked to see Severus' face when Gryffindor win the cup," Minerva muttered, reluctantly easing herself out of her chair.

"I'll tell you all about it when you come back on Monday," Pomona said exasperatedly, rolling her eyes. "Now go. I'll make sure to owl Elphinstone with direct orders telling him not to let you leave your bed under any circumstances."

Minerva shook her head, however, smiled faintly. "I promise you will not see me anywhere near my classroom until Monday morning," she said, fastening her cloak.

Half an hour later and Minerva was back at home and slipping into her nightdress. Since leaving Hogwarts, her headache had got steadily worse so that she felt as though someone was pounding her head repeatedly. She climbed into bed, took off her glasses, and placed them carefully on the bedside table.

"I can't believe what I'm seeing," came Elphinstone's voice, as he walked into their bedroom. "Minerva McGonagall doing as she is told."

"Just this once," Minerva replied, gratefully accepting the tea he was offering her. "Thank you."

He sat on the edge of the bed. "I mixed in some Pepper-Up potion too. With bed rest, you will be up and ready in no time."

"I sincerely hope so," answered Minerva, feeling steam come out of her ears as she drank the tea. She put the teacup down and rubbed her ear. "That is a feeling I will never get used to."

Elphinstone smiled and leaned over to kiss her. "I'll come back in a few hours with some more. But for now, get some rest." Minerva lay down and he stroked her hair before getting up. "I'm going to take your bag so that you're not tempted to do any work," he added, picking up her bag and looking at her knowingly.

Minerva rolled her eyes but smiled nevertheless.