Author's notes: So, the second I get back into this fic, Corona virus hits, my post-graduate studies go haywire and I get no time to write it. So much, much later than I wanted but I hope everyone enjoys the latest chapter.

Please review!

Chapter 13: Christmas holidays and staff meetings.

As Christmas holidays progressed, the weather turned still colder. Storms buffeted against the windows, leaving piles of snow in their wake and the lake froze over, leaving a glassy sheen over the water. No pupils and few teachers had elected to stay at Hogwarts over the school break and – more often than not – it was only herself, Severus, Pomona and Umbridge at the staff table for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

Albus wasn't on-site, now doubt doing more work for the Order, though he sent notes through her fireplace nearly every morning. Notes detailing new strategies and plans they (namely she) had to figure out how to put into place. Christmas dinner had been dreadful, with Umbridge encouraging them to sing carols and pull crackers. Minerva and Severus hadn't bothered to try and play the part, much to Umbridge's annoyance. Pomona, perhaps still angry at Minerva for not telling her more information, had tried to imbue the Christmas spirit but everyone had left within the hour and gone back to their separate chambers.

Pomona. What she wouldn't do to have her friend beside her right now …

She leaned into the wooden chair, attempting to keep her attention on Umbridge who had insisted on holding the weekly staff meeting for those still at Hogwarts. Severus was sitting beside her, Hagrid behind but Pomona hadn't even bothered to turn up. Poppy hadn't been invited, judged by Umbridge to be of 'less importance' than the other staff members. Minerva wondered as she glared at Umbridge's squat figure if the woman's assessment of Poppy's abilities would change if she were severely injured.

Perhaps, something Minerva could arrange …

"So, you see," Umbridge said, "if we just …"

Minerva tuned out again. She hadn't expected Pomona to attend the meeting when she'd caught sight of the date on the mantle. January 6. The anniversary of a mass killing by Voldemort's supporters at the Sprout residence. Pomona's parents, one sister and an uncle had been casualties. Pomona had arrived back at their home for a weekly Sunday dinner to find the Death Mark hovering above their house. Despite knowing what she would find, she had rushed inside to find their bodies sitting at the dining room table, the Sunday roast in middle.

Years later, part of Pomona still blamed herself, wondering if she had been there even a half-hour earlier if she could have prevented the killing. Minerva had pointed out only once that Pomona could also have been another casualty. Pomona had lost her temper, considering it an insult. Every year, Pomona tended to disappear for the morning and Minerva would meet her for lunch. Today, however, she was nowhere to be found. Minerva had searched her office, her chambers, had even gone into the Greenhouses where Pomona would sometimes immerse herself in the most dangerous plants imaginable, beating back vicious branches and flowers which tried to sink their venomous fangs into her flesh.

And still … nothing.

"That concludes us for this evening …" Umbridge said from the front. "I hope to see you at dinner tonight."

Severus was on his feet even quicker than Minerva. However, to her surprise, he waited for her outside in the corridor. He offered her an attempt at a smile and fell into step beside her as they moved toward the staff table. It was dim outside, the sun already set, and the windows offered little light as they continued down the stairs.

"I am unsure if you're aware," Severus said eventually, "but Dumbledore has requested that I …" He hesitated for a moment. "… has requested that I teach Potter Occlumency."

Minerva's eyes widened. She had great respect for Albus Dumbledore, always had and always would, but there were times when he simply did not realise that past history could not be ignored. Severus Snape and James Potter had loathed each other, a hate that had trickled into the next generation and was now just as strong between Snape and Harry. It was fool hardy to suggest that Severus should teach Potter such a difficult branch of magic. He should be doing it himself.

Something she would have to tell him. For the Potions Master to tell her of the upcoming lessons meant he was as uneasy about the future lessons as she was. Unfortunately, he was reluctant to voice his concerns to the Headmaster. Perhaps thinking Albus would somehow think less of him for putting forward a potential weakness.

"I'll talk to him," she said.

He exhaled a relieved breath as they reached the Great Hall. "Thank you," he said, walking to the staff table. He frowned, noticing that she had stopped, her eyes on the front entrance. It had clearly been opened recently, with fresh snow scattered on the heavy, wooden floors and there were very few people who would be able to enter.

Those few people included Hogwarts' Professors.

She gave the Slytherin a nod before heading straight past the staff table and up another staircase where she could peer out a window which overlooked Pomona's office. And, sure enough, there was a light on, and she could see the faint shadow of Pomona at her desk, hunched over a huge pile of parchment. Minerva closed her eyes a moment. If Pomona had gone to this much effort today to avoid Minerva then perhaps she didn't want to be seen at all. However, Minerva had known the other woman since they were children together and that didn't fit at all. Another part of her wondered if she should instead go and find Albus, tell her of her misgivings regarding Severus and him teaching Harry. That would also important. Yet …

Decision made, she continued up the staircase towards Pomona's chambers. Friendship won in this particular battle. The gargoyle guarding Pomona's chambers didn't even ask for the password as she approached, it even looked somewhat worried as it stepped aside. Then again, chamber guardians often grew fond of their occupants. Her portrait, Godric, had been known to tell students to 'sod off' if he judged them to be disturbing her too early.

Inside, it was dim, but she didn't light the many candles in the room. If Pomona had gone to such great extents to avoid Minerva so far, then she would no doubt turn away if she suspected someone was inside. Slowly, her eyes adjusted to the dark light and she was able to make her way through the furniture in the room, her attention caught by an open book on the coffee table.

It was a photo album, despite being dark she could make out the familiar figures she knew all-too-well in each photograph. Pomona and her sister Margaret; Pomona and her parents Ava and Raymond; Pomona and her uncle, Samson. She flicked the page, her throat tightening. Pomona, herself and Marcus at graduation, their arms slung around each other's shoulders as Marcus pressed his lips against Pomona's cheek. Ava and Raymond standing proudly behind them in the background with Margaret who had been two years younger standing between her parents. Pomona, Marcus and herself had been seventeen, legal wizarding adults and had felt on top of the world.

A feeling she had never felt to the same extent since.

She cast a dark shadow from where she stood bent over the table, flicking through the album. The door opened and she heard Pomona whisper the incantation to light the chambers. She was dressed in muggle clothes, her thick coat tight around her, and didn't look particularly surprised to see Minerva in front of the fireplace. She looked from Minerva, to the album, and back before hurrying into her bedroom without uttering a word.

Minerva followed silently, taking a moment to observe as Pomona sat down heavily on the bed and pulled off her shoes. She let them fall to the ground, clearly not caring where they landed. Her eyes were wet, tears running down her cheeks, but she stayed silent and didn't acknowledge Minerva as she crossed the room and sat behind her.

"Coat off," Minerva said gently.

Pomona didn't protest and let Minerva slide the heavy fabric from her shoulders and place it on the bed, her body beginning to shake slightly. "I'd hoped you'd forgotten," she finally said.

Minerva gave a quiet laugh, more hurt than she would admit. "Sometimes," she said, "I really don't think you know me at all."

She stood and Pomona's hand shot out to wrap tightly around her wrist, nails digging into her skin. "Thank you," she whispered.

Minerva nodded, but said nothing further as she unwound Pomona's fingers and went into the adjoining bathroom. She had always been the less emotive of the two women but, right now, she felt a sting in her eyes that she forced away as she ran the hot water, soon filling the bath. She focused on the water and suds, shoving down the emotion that threatened to boil over. She had chosen to push away her hurt about Marcus, quash it down as far as she could, and it seemed that after thirty years it was trying valiantly to surge forward.

Pomona entered and Minerva rose to her feet, nodding towards the now-full bathtub. "It will stay warm. Stay as long as you need."

She didn't wait for a response, heading back to the living room and sitting down. She took the album from the coffee table, continuing her examination. Her own face appeared more than once as she flicked through, making her all-too-aware of just how long the two had known each other. Heck, there was even a photo at the front of them in matching school robes on platform nine-and-three-quarters.

Her attention was completely absorbed by the many photos and she jolted as Pomona entered. She had dressed for bed, in flannel pyjamas and a blue dressing gown and was towelling her hair.

"I want to ask you something," Pomona said without preamble.

Minerva raised her eyebrows in question, not surprised by the next words out of Pomona's mouth.

"I want to join the Order."

Minerva closed the album and sat it beside her. Inside was the evidence of why Pomona shouldn't join. Of the casualties of wars with people like the Dark Lord; the friends and families who would be murdered. And now, Pomona – who despite being an advocate for the Light – wasn't an official member of the Order wanted to join. Increase her chance of dying. Another person who Minerva cared for, had done so since childhood.

"I thought you might," she said eventually.

Pomona looked at her uncertainly, clearly suspicious at the lack of argument. "Are you not going to argue with me about it?"

"Would there be any point?" Minerva asked. "I can't pretend that it makes me happy but, at the end of the day, it's your decision to make and not mine."

Pomona still seemed hesitant but came forward, shifting the album so she could sit down. "You're getting soft," she said finally. "The Minerva McGonagall I know would have started yelling."

Minerva looked away, into the fireplace. "I think this is a different type of war. Maybe we need different kind of people."

She heard a soft laugh and felt Pomona take her hand, squeezing it once.

"Now, will you tell me everything?"

-o-

It was almost midnight before she left Pomona's chambers, having told the Herbology Professor everything the Light did know as well as everything they thought they knew. Pomona had been grateful for Minerva's trust, vowing not to breathe a word about anything to anyone. In turn, Minerva had promised to talk to Albus about Pomona joining the Order.

The corridors were eerily silent, without even the clanking of a suit of armour or whispering portraits to be heard. Even Peeves seemed to be quiet, not bothering to cause chaos if there was no one to annoy. Years at Hogwarts helped Minerva not break that silence, so it was easy to hear the footsteps in another corridor. Someone who was clearly not meant to rushing through a darkened school late at night.

Minerva rushed towards the footsteps, keeping her tread light and caught sight of Lucius Malfoy entering Umbridge's office. He didn't bother closing the door and she hid herself behind a curtain, watching as he handed her a bundle of files which she placed into an office drawer that she locked tight with a key she tucked into her pocket. However, she could hear only snatches of the conversation between the two. New reports … Severus … Fudge … Umbridge's face lit with piggish joy as they whispered. He looked equally repulsive; his eyes full of the same horrid glee. She had despised Lucius Malfoy since he was a student. An intelligent, arrogant boy who had considered himself on a higher level than most, whose family all-but-rolled in wizarding money.

The meeting was over in a matter of minutes and she watched as he took a pinch of floo powder, calling 'Malfoy residence' before stepping inside and disappearing in a whirl of green flame. Umbridge wrapped her cloak around herself and left her office, muttering a locking charm on her door and heading towards her private quarters, a smirk still playing at her mouth. Minerva disentangled herself from behind the curtain and hurried in the opposite direction to her chambers, hoping that her owl, Eric, had decided to pay her a visit.

Albus needed to hear about this at once.

Godric gave her a disapproving once-over and pointed at a clock on the opposite wall. She held up a hand before he could say anything and he silently swung the door open, his chest still puffed out and eyes narrow. No doubt she would receive a reprimand in the morning.

To her delight, Eric was sitting on the window ledge, dozing with his head tucked beneath his wing. She hurried to her desk and scribbled Albus a quick note.

Lucius Malfoy in Hogwarts meeting Umbridge. Severus and Fudge's name mentioned.

She could tell him little else and folded the note as small as she could to attach to Eric's leg. Her owl, bearing spectacle-type markings around his eyes (Hagrid had bought him for her as a Christmas present a few years earlier, laughing as he told her that the owl was 'definitely perfect') and she felt a slight pang of guilt that she would be sending him out in such cold weather. Still, it was an oddly still and clear night. He wouldn't be fighting through torrents of swirling snow.

"I have a job for you," she said as she approached.

Eric lifted his head from under his wing and opened one huge, yellow eye. She held up the note and reached out to attach it to his leg.

He closed his eye and turned his back on her.

She wanted to laugh but instead silently tied the note to his leg from behind. He had always been a recalcitrant bird. The owl grudgingly took a shuffling step forward, glancing over his wing with a pleading expression. Clearly, he didn't want to move an inch. She shook her head, pointing outside.

"Go," she commanded.

She turned back around and went to her sofa, sitting down and letting her head fall back. Exhaustion was snipping at her heels and she didn't bother trying to get back up as her eyes closed.

Before sleep totally overcame her, she thought she should have added Severus' concerns about Occlumency and Potter to the note.

-o-

Sun streamed through the window, sending light through the stained glass. She was in the same position on the sofa, in the same clothing and her neck protested as she leaned forward. The sound of knocking, which had seeped into her dreams, shook her from state of half-slumber.

Someone wanted to see her.

"Just a moment," she called, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand as she rose unsteadily to her feet. She crossed the short distance across her living room and turned the doorknob.

Hagrid stood at the other side, shocked at her bedraggled appearance and she took a step back to allow him inside. Her eyes fell on her mantle, noting that it was almost nine o'clock in the morning. She hadn't slept in that long for months and, despite the crick in her neck, the newfound energy she found in her body suggested she should do so more often.

"I'm worried about Dumbledore," Hagrid said without preamble. "He's not been here for weeks and …"

"Dumbledore is safe, Hagrid," Minerva interrupted. "In fact …"

There was a burst of flame and a note, a howler and a phoenix feather appeared from nowhere. Albus' daily instructions and a reprimand. Hagrid jumped slightly, a flush rising in his cheeks as the howler began to steam at the edges but Minerva didn't flinch as she reached instead for the note and feather, letting the howler fall to the ground. She tucked Fawkes' feather into her dressing gown pocket as she unfurled Dumbledore's note. There was nothing of note, an assurance plans were going well and an instruction for her to go to Grimmauld Place. She handed the parchment to Hagrid with a small smile. "Read this."

Tension seemed to melt from Hagrid's shoulders as his black eyes skimmed over Dumbledore's message. The half-giant had always been protective of the Headmaster, often to his detriment. Hagrid exhaled a deep breath as he handed the note back and Minerva noticed the fresh bruise that marred his cheek and his swollen chin. He was still being injured frequently. Between them, the howler at their feet rose from the ground, hissing and steaming and burst open with a resounding 'bang' that echoed around her chambers. Albus' voice, magnified ten-fold.

"Give Umbridge lee-way!"

Hagrid turned tomato-red but Minerva ignored the howler as she raised herself onto her toes and reached upward to let her fingertips graze softly over the bruise on his cheek. He flinched, but said nothing, unwilling to admit how much the feather-light contact hurt him.

"Is there any point asking you what is going on?" she said softly, lowering herself back down.

He glanced down at his feet, sheepish, but shook his head. "Can't, Professor," he said. "I'm sorry."

Minerva didn't argue, knowing that pushing him would be futile. "Go and see Poppy," she said eventually. "Get a healing potion. Those look superficial; get some cream as well should these injuries continue to occur. People can develop a tolerance to potions so alternate between the two. Poppy can tell you more."

Hagrid nodded. "Shall do." He turned to leave, though hesitated for a moment before glancing over his shoulder. "Not sure what's going on with you and Dumbledore but … hope you two work it out." He left without another word and Minerva grabbed the burst howler from the ground and wrote on the back, before tapping it and the feather from Fawkes with her wand. Both would reach Albus in a matter of seconds.

Her words were simple.

I have said before that I will not.

-o-

Grimmauld Place appeared from nowhere as she thought the address on the street. A seemingly small house with a narrow staircase that led into the Black family's London mansion. She entered the front hall, careful to tip-toe past the portrait of Sirius' mother and into the kitchen where she found Tonks and Lupin at the table, a pile of papers between them.

Papers she recognised as muggle-born records.

Clearly, Amelia's plans were working.

"Hey, Professor," Tonks said, pushing the records in her direction. "Are you able to take care of these?"

Minerva nodded but didn't say a word, her eyes on Lupin. She hadn't seen him since he had disappeared from Hogwarts. He didn't look much better, perhaps the smudges beneath his eyes were a touch lighter, but he still appeared tired and forlorn. Tonks' eyes travelled from Minerva to Remus and back again. Minerva wasn't sure if the young Auror had been aware of where Remus had been staying during his time away. Judging by her expression, she wouldn't be happy if she knew the truth.

"Is this where you've been?" Minerva asked.

Remus nodded. "Yes."

She laughed humourlessly. "In the company of an individual in a house he loathes that reminds him constantly of a family he hates. A very sensible option."

"And there's another charming assessment of me," Sirius said sarcastically from the doorway. "It's good to know you think so highly of me."

"Harry and the Weasleys have been here," Tonks interjected, looking truly confused at the obvious animosity between herself and Sirius. "Me as well."

"That counts for something at least," Minerva said. She paused for a moment, listening to her surroundings. It was quiet, no usual sounds of teenagers on holidays. If she weren't mistaken, there were no adolescents in the house. "Where are they all?" she asked.

"Visiting Arthur again," Sirius answered, going to the bench and tapping the kettle. "He seems to be healing well enough. Slowly, but …" His voice trailed off. "… but he's recovering."

"Which is the main thing," Minerva said, guessing what Sirius meant. Better a slow recovery than a certain death.

"Exactly." Sirius glanced over his shoulder. "You take your coffee the same way?"

"Yes."

She watched as he tapped various instruments, black liquid filling two plain mugs. They had both took their coffee black, strong and searing hot. Some things would never change. He turned around and took the few steps towards her, placing it on the table within reach.

"Thank you," she said with an attempted smile.

He gave an equally fake grimace in return. "Any time," he said sarcastically, pulling out a chair and flinging himself down.

Beside him, Tonks' eyes had widened into saucers and were now moving between herself and Sirius. Minerva could almost see all the cogs falling into the place in the younger woman's mind. The stilted body language between the two, the stiff and bitter conversation, the derisive tone … Confusion soon turned to comprehension and surprise with a hint of amusement that Minerva wanted to tear away.

Instead, she grabbed her coffee and took a sip. "Who gathered these?" she asked.

"I did," Tonks answered.

Minerva's eyes locked with the other woman's, sending a silent message not to mention a word of what she'd just discovered. Tonks flinched back.

"Umm … I got a role with Fudge, he wants more protection these days and …" She shrugged. "It gives me access.

"Good." Minerva took another sip. "How have Harry and the Weasleys been coping?"

"As well as could be expected," Sirius answered. "Harry's blaming himself, the Weasleys are terrified that the next time a family member will be killed. Particularly if it's the son that's sided with the Ministry. Molly is scared they won't reconcile."

Minerva had known about Percy's estrangement from the Weasley clan. He had always been a pompous and sometimes foolish young man. It seemed graduation hadn't lessened that. Upstairs, there was the familiar whoosh signalling floo travel.

"If you wanted to see them, Professor," Tonks said, pointing upstairs. "I think they've just returned."

She shook her head, placing her unfinished coffee back on the table. Part of her wanted to see Harry, wanted to see the Weasleys. Particularly, if she were honest with herself, the twins who she missed more than she cared to admit. It was strange now, not having them in her office or chambers, calling out questions about potions ingredients and made her time at Hogwarts much less fun.

"I shouldn't," she said. She gestured down at her muggle clothing she had worn on her journey. "They probably wouldn't even recognise me."

Tonks laughed and Minerva grabbed the files, tucking them into her magically-expanded coat pocket. Lupin, Tonks and Sirius said their goodbyes as she turned and she hurried back into the London street, disapparating with a 'pop' to reappear at the Hogwarts gates.

-o-

She wasn't surprised when Albus and Fawkes appeared in her chambers in a burst of flames. She and the Headmaster had argued many times over the years and she knew that he'd be livid that she chose to ignore his instructions regarding Umbridge.

"Lucius went into her office and they exchanged information of some sort," she said, not lifting her head. She was marking homework, seventh-year students who she had asked to explain the theory behind animagus transformations. The nib of her quill made a scratching sound as she crossed out a spelling error. "Perhaps you already knew about it because of Severus."

She looked up, daring Albus to argue.

He didn't disappoint.

"Yes, I did," he snapped back. "Which is why you don't need to get involved …"

"Perhaps if you had informed me, I would have known not to get involved," she interrupted.

He frowned, not able to argue.

"Also," she continued. "Severus has some … concerns regarding his latest instructions."

"Which are?"

Minerva rolled her eyes. "You truly don't understand the hatred between the two of them, do you?" she asked. "Severus won't be able to teach Potter in an unbiased manner."

"Severus is stronger than you give him credit for," Albus said.

"This has nothing to do with strength," Minerva said. "This has to do with hatred, resentment and unrequited love."

Albus looked surprised. "I didn't think anyone but myself and Severus knew…"

"You don't give me enough credit at times," Minerva said irritably. "You truly don't."

The Headmaster looked mildly chagrined but held his ground. "This doesn't concern you," he warned.

"It will concern me when it falls through," she shot back. "And it's only a matter of time until that occurs."

Fawkes let out a gentle hoot that calmed the room and rendered her unable to speak. The phoenix had the ability to calm emotions and stop conversations that could lead to insults and words the people involved would later regret. She and Albus both took a deep breath, letting the phoenix magic wash over them.

"Also, we have a new member for the Order," Minerva said as Fawkes landed on Albus' shoulder. "Pomona wishes to join."

Albus nodded, still under Fawkes' influence. "I'll see her later tonight."

"Thank you."

He gave a courteous nod before the two disappeared in a brilliant explosion of fire.

Dates: January 6-7.

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