TIME AND AGAIN

Diclaimer: Sorry if I have ever suggested otherwise – but nothing and no-one you recognise belong to me.

Summery: Following on from Time Beyond Meeting and Time For Thought though does standalone. It's the end of term and life isn't getting any less complicated. MM with PP, RH, FF, HS, AW and AL. Less AD and SS but Minerva does have rather a lot on her mind…

---

It was a long acknowledged fact that celebrations marking a House winning the quidditch or House Cup, only really got underway when the Head of House left the Common room. It was something that Minerva had accepted early on during her tenure as Head of Gryffindor, as it had been the same in her own days as a student. For this very reason, as she sat and watched the teaching staff relax after their first term back in session after The War, she checked the time and contemplated beginning to start making her excuses.

At least that was the reason she was clinging to. Albus had always been one of the last to leave a party so she supposed that her friends had become more than used to the presence of their superior at these end of term events. However, Minerva was exhausted, and though the school holidays had begun the rest of the world was still working and she had a number of meetings scheduled.

It was good to see her friends laugh and smile though, as though their cares could be at least put aside for a time. It had not been the easiest of years, they may not have needed to fight the Ministry, or needed to protect the Castle and its inhabitants from a war waging outside the walls but it had been far from plain sailing.

Curled up in the corner of her favourite sofa, revelling in the warmth of the fire blazing quietly to her left and the heat of the mulled wine seeping through the mug she was cradling, it seemed a lifetime ago that she had stood before the student body at the start of term. She had stood and looked out at the sea of faces and had had to take a moment to gather her thoughts before she spoke.

'We start this term afresh.

These walls have seen things that our Founders never intended they see. Many of you have seen and experienced things that you should not have had to see or experience.

This year will be different.

This year you will be given the opportunity to learn and to grow.

Grow in knowledge yes, but I hope, perhaps more importantly, that you will also grow in understanding, tolerance and respect.

This is what I hope.

What I will promise you and what I hope you will be able to pledge each other in return, is that each one of you, no matter which House you belong to, who your relations are or what your past may hold, will be treated fairly now.

You will be judged only on how you choose to behave in the coming days, weeks and months. How you choose to treat your fellow students and Professors and how well you apply yourselves to your studies is all that I am interested in.

As long as you try your best and treat one and other with respect that is all I can ask.'

There was a first time for everything, as Filius had pointed out, as she had fretted over what it was she was going to say.

'Look at it this way my dear,' he had pointed out lightly, 'you can't be any less popular than the last person who made a Welcome Feast speech.'

She had very nearly bitten his head off until she realised that he wasn't speaking about Albus.

'Yes well, I'm not intending to threaten physical punishment and worse, so I suppose that's a head start.'

None the less, there had been trials. Despite all of their best efforts there was still friction between the students in the different Houses. It had for the most part been kept under control though, both through pro-action and measured reaction.

When they had been planning the timetable, she had been adamant that all of the students were mixed. The first years had been sorted into classes alphabetically while the upper years were sorted according to ability. Both of these, they had discovered, resulted in a good mix of students from each House in most classes.

Students wore a Hogwarts crest on their robes now, with their house named underneath the patch and it's colours still visible on their uniforms, it wasn't much but it served, she hoped, as a reminder that they did all belong to the same school.

Minerva had had to work particularly hard at ensuring she left her Gryffindor heritage behind her. If there was one thing it was incredibly important that she be as impartial as possible when matters of student behaviour were brought before her. It wasn't just matters of discipline that had proven complicated however, she had known that many of the children and young adults who were returning to their care, to her care, had suffered horribly in the last year.

It had only taken her a few weeks to realise quite how serious the situation was. A third year Slytherin had made a rather inept suicide attempt. Poppy had described it as a 'cry for help', which she supposed was accurate enough. What frustrated her so much was that they had already put into place the recommendations of the councillors they had spoken to over the summer.

She shuddered and forcefully tried to pull herself away from those thoughts, she knew where they led and she hadn't, didn't, have time for that. And besides, within a few days Adam had returned to classes, and she was informed, by those who were monitoring the situation that, although there were good days and bad days, he seemed to be in a much better state of mind.

No. No one would fall through her net if she could help it.

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and let her head roll towards the fire, the sounds of her friends conversations rolling over her. Things were better, and she had huge faith that they would continue to improve, given the effort her current teaching-staff were putting in to their work.

"Comfy?"

The question jolted her awake, as Rolanda through herself into the couch next to her.

"A little too comfy it would seem." She replied with a smile, stretching the kinks out of her spine. "I wasn't…" she ventured.

"I wouldn't worry, you were only out for a minute. Top up?"

"Thank you, but no." she replied, trying to smother a yawn. "But what can I do for you?"

"I was just wondering if you'd heard anything more from Beauxbatons?" the Quidditch instructor asked, excitement flashing in her golden eyes.

"Nothing yet, however Hagrid informs me that he's spending some of the holidays with Olympie and that she had said that she wanted to stop by and discuss some things with me. I don't think it should be problem though, it's merely a question of setting dates."

"And there'll be a return match?"

"I would think so. Hogwarts v. Beauxbatons and Beauxbatons v. Hogwarts. How did the last joint practice go?"

"Fantastic. The team is really starting to come together." She was so enthusiastic it was catching.

"It's good to hear that, I can't wait for there to be a team I can support wholeheartedly."

Yawning again, Minerva lifted her hand to cover her mouth.

"Ready for a long lie?" Rolanda asked, much more quietly than was usual for her.

"Unfortunately it's not quite that simple," she began, pinching the bridge of her nose. "just because we're on holiday doesn't mean that everyone else is."

"But tomorrow's Saturday!" she protested.

"That it is – so why don't you have another drink, and I'll be sure to let you know as soon as I hear anything about the Inter-school Quidditch." She reassured the smaller woman, standing and making a quick survey of the room.

"Is this a tactical withdrawal I hear?" Pomona asked, looking up from her conversation.

"Already?" Filius asked good-naturedly.

"I'm afraid I am." She replied, "I think an early night's in order and I've got a busy day tomorrow."

There was a murmur of mixed objections before Pomona stepped forward.

"Well, Sleep well My love. You deserve it." She said, reaching up and hugging her.

Not too long ago, Minerva would have found it incredibly difficult to accept the gesture, never mind in public, however, she had found herself revelling in these small gestures over the previous months.

"Indeed." Filius echoed, kissing her hand.

"Good night," she announced the room as a whole, her raised voice seeming to tighten the long familiar vice around her temples, "and just in case I don't see those of you who are going away; Have a wonderful Christmas and I shall see you in the New Year."

She thought she was going to make a clean getaway until Poppy, out of her usual Matrons garb but still radiating her professional manner appeared by her side. The Headmistress wondered idly if she would ever again see her friend for more than two minutes at a time without the medi-witch in her making an appearance.

"Your head's still bothering you, isn't it?"

Minerva closed her eyes and contemplated whether she had the energy to fight or she should just capitulate.

"I thought we had an understanding…" Poppy nudged her before softening her stance and her tone.

"Well in that case, " Minerva snorted lightly and then regretted it. "Yes. My head is pounding again. However," she held up a hand to forestall an interruption. "I strongly suspect that four hours of marking end of term exams combined with hot red wine are to blame."

"Well they certainly wont have help, I suspect that the fact that every muscle above your waist is rock solid might be a bigger contributing factor."

Minerva froze, her head tilted to one side, and hand kneading her neck muscles.

"If I tell you I'm going to take a long hot shower before I go to bed, can we skim over that point. At least tonight."

"Hmmm. As long as you are actually planning on going to bed."

"I did just say I was going for an early night didn't I?"

"Yes, but I'm not sure I've ever known you to go to bed before ten voluntarily." Poppy countered.

"What time is it?" Minerva asked, realising that she'd lost all track of around for a clock.

"About half-past nine." The other woman supplied, just as Minerva managed to spot a clock.

"Good grief." She sighed, pressing her thumb and forefinger into her eyes. "I'd no idea it was still so early – Albus would be positively ashamed of me."

"No, he would be incredibly proud of you." Came a much more serious reply than she was expecting. "But it is, I would say, a good indication of how badly you're in need of an early night."

"Well I'm not going to argue on that one. It would seem I'm just too old for all this socialising."

"Or you've just been burning the candle at both ends." Poppy said pointedly, "But that's not a conversation for tonight. Off you go, I'll have one of the elves bring you an analgesic, and I'll see you tomorrow evening?"

"Thank you, I'm afraid not though, it's the Ministry Festive bash and I need to at least make an appearance. But I'm sure I'll see you at some point."

"Hmm." Poppy commented, ushering her the remaining few feet to the door "Go on then. Sleep well."

---

As soon as Minerva awoke, she knew that there had been something other than just a pain reliever in the draft that Poppy had prescribed the previous night. She had never slept terribly well and currently, if she was getting more than four hours straight then she deemed it a good night but judging by the fact that it was getting light outside, she could only assume that she'd been asleep for almost ten hours.

She sat bolt upright.

If the sun was up it must be well after eight.

If it was after eight, then she had not only slept well but later than she could honestly remember ever doing. It also meant that if she was to be at the Ministry for ten then she was going to have to get a move on. Once she was in the shower she managed to get her mind working enough to realise that there was no way she was now going to be able to do everything she had wanted to, everything she had needed to, before attending the meeting of the Wizengamot.

She had intending on reading through the papers for the Meeting of the Governors this afternoon, now she wasn't quite sure when she was going to manage that. She dressed quickly, drying her hair in a moment and twisting it into her usual bun. Stepping from her quarters into her office, she checked the time and instinctively looked to the two new portraits and their occupants. Though they had both been commissioned and hung at much the same time, the pictures themselves could not have been more different.

Albus, who had been the first to stir, was depicted sitting by the fire in his office, chess set, teapot and bowl of lemon drops all in place. He had yet to waken fully, but Fawkes was happily preening himself and deigned to greet her with a trill.

"Good morning to you to." she greeted him quietly, before turning her attention to the other frame.

It had taken a lot longer for her to decide what it was that Severus would want, but she had decided eventually that he would be far happier set in his own private lab. While she was certain that Albus would be happy to spend the rest of eternity socialising, she strongly suspected that Severus would be much happier if he could experiment and read. Currently though, he was resting in a chair by his own fire but there was no sign of movement this morning, and after a brief moments contemplation Minerva shook herself and headed towards her desk to collect her files.

Sitting on centre of the desk, where she had left the stack of parchments for this afternoons meeting, was a far smaller sheaf. Attached to the top, there was a short note in Filius familiar handwriting.

Minerva,

I hope you don't mind, I have read and condensed the reports that will be presented at today's Governors meeting. Everything you need, should be in this file, but if there's anything further you need to know, just contact me.

Otherwise, I shall see you at four..

Yours,

Filius

Sometimes Minerva wondered if Filius was truly a gift from above.

It was hardly outside his remit as her Deputy she supposed, she had often done the same for Albus, but usually Minerva preferred to have a complete grasp of what was going on that could only really be gained through actually reading all the relevant paperwork. She did however trust Filius' judgement, to have included all the pertinent information.

With a half-smile, and a note to herself to remember to pick up something particularly nice for Filius' Christmas, she lifted her papers for both meetings, donned her Wizengamot hat and robes, and left her office.

She had to admit that she found sitting on the High Court to be both challenging and entirely satisfying. The Court was still meeting through the weekends in order to try and wade through the backlog of cases left from the end of the War, however, Minerva was only required to attend one in every eight hearings and so far they had managed to schedule all of her cases to avoid most of her classes. None the less, it was often an exhausting process given the level of application it merited.

As was the situation with so many of the cases that they were called to judge, today's was not a simple affair. There were rarely hard and fast facts when it came to loyalty and responsibility but none the less there was compelling evidence for both sides in this case and it soon became apparent that there was no way in which, the initial six hours set aside were going to be long enough to reach a conclusion.

At the first opportunity, and while the others were at lunch, she sent owls to both Arthur Weasley, in his capacity as Chair of the Board of Governors, and to Filius at the school, suggesting that they postpone the meeting until late the following day. She would not be able to receive a reply while they were in session so she asked the two men to come to an agreement between themselves and that she would make contact as soon as she was able.

Despite the fact that the process was as exhausting as it had been on the first time she had been called to Sit, Minerva relished immersing herself in something that had little to do with either the running of Hogwarts or Transfiguration. So much so, that it was gone five before she realised the time, and she was really quite surprised when the Chief called a recess until the following morning.

Bidding a congenial farewell to her companions as they entered the atrium, her mind was already back at the castle. She would need to return and change, making the necessary titivations before trying to catch up with Filius before returning to the Ministry for the celebrations, and time was now decidedly against her.

It seemed that preparations were already well underway for the later festivities and Minerva's attention was drawn by the goings on around the atrium and the greetings of various acquaintances who were crossing the hall that it took a moment for her to realise who it was that had called her official title.

"Headmistress!" she looked around, expecting to see a former student or parent…

"Horace?" she asked, more than a little surprised to see the Head of Slytherin, especially in his finest dress robes. "What brings you here?"

"Why you, my dear lady." He replied lightly. "I come bearing gifts," he lifted the carpet bag by his side, "and strict instructions that I am to ensure that you eat at least three courses of dinner before I allow you to attend to any to socialising never mind business."

"I beg your pardon?" she asked, only mildly incredulous.

"I am here, with your dress robes Minerva, so that I might, at your discretion, take you to dinner and then, if you would be kind enough to allow it, to escort you to the Ministry Ball this evening."

She couldn't help but chuckle.

"Oh, I'm sorry Horace," she managed after a moment. "it would seem that my brain has become somewhat addled this afternoon. Yes, I would be most grateful if you would join me tonight – Merlin knows you'll have a better grasp of what needs to be said to whom, than I do."

"I must admit that I am rather well acquainted with the new administration already." He agreed in his usually pompous fashion, only his eyes twinkling and his moustache twitching giving away his self-mockery. "Now I've made reservations for six o'clock so you had better run along and get changed. I believe that everything you need should be in here." He handed her the bag. "And I shall see you here when your preparations are complete."

---

Minerva remembered that upon receiving her invitation to this prestigious event, that she had thought two things; firstly that she really couldn't decline to attend, and that if she was going to go, she was going to have to buy some new dress robes. Naturally, given her schedule at the moment she had not managed to achieve that, and so, when she opened the bag, she had expected to see her faithful tartan robes. Instead however, she had found a rather extravagant purple set. Pulling them out, she had been quite suspicious, concerned even, that she would be met with something totally inappropriate, however, as the fabric unfolded she was pleasantly surprised and she pulled on first the full-length dress and then the over-robe.

She had to give credit to whoever had prepared the bag though, as she also found hosiery, shoes and makeup. Twisting her hair back up into an elegant, slightly less severe, French twist, she refolded her original clothes and placed them in the bag before shrinking it and with a flick of her wand, she transfigured it into a small clutch in purple satin to match her dress and trimmed in white heather tartan to match the edging of her robes.

"Stunning, my dear." Horace greeted her with a kiss to the cheek. "If perhaps a little on the slim side for my liking." He added, giving her a look she was long familiar with. She gave him a scowl for his efforts.

"I believe you mentioned dinner?" she asked, hooking her arm through his.

As he led her through Wizarding London, he chatted away to her about the current goings on in Wizarding society. It was, she decided, quite mindless fluff but she had to admit that she was rather enjoying it.

Dinner was superb, as she had known it with be, with Horace choosing the venue, and when it had come to paying, she had quite happily picked up the tab.

"No Horace," she batted off his protestations, which she suspected were, for once, genuine. "consider it your Christmas gift from me."

When they arrived back at the Ministry, it was awash with people and Minerva felt her enthusiasm wane significantly. Despite the excessive amount of sleep she had had last night, or perhaps because of it, she was flagging already. But throughout the evening, Horace was pleasantly attentive, and managed to fend off the worst of the pestering.

She was deep in discussion with Arthur and Molly when several faces she hadn't seen in several months, joined the group.

"Mr Potter, " she greeted warmly. "Mr Weasley, Miss Granger."

"Professor, " the dark haired young man replied with a smile before, leaning in to hold her upper arms and kiss her cheek. Pulling back, she turned towards Arthur and raised her eyebrows.

"It would seem that we are beginning to grow up." She mock whispered, causing the father of seven to chuckle.

"No fear that I'm that grown up." The youngest Weasley son muttered, bringing a smile to her face.

"Indeed, Mr Weasley." She replied, favouring him with a well-practiced stare.

"Just ignore him Professor." Miss Granger stepped up and hugged her. It took a moment for her to get over her surprise but she returned the embrace when she had. "It's really good to see you."

"And you all." She replied quite honestly.

"Do you think we could have a word?" Mr Potter asked, suddenly all serious.

"I'll leave you too it, then," Arthur declared, with a knowing look to the trio, "Molly, Horace, won't you join me, I believe that Kingsley is looking to introduce us to someone."

"Now, what can I do for you?" She asked, once they had withdrawn to a slightly less hectic part of the floor.

"Well, " Miss Granger began.

"We want to sit our NEWTS." Potter blurted out.

"It's fine just now," the young woman continued. "between one thing and another, we're more than making a living and we just wanted some time to…"

"Find ourselves." Potter inserted, slightly flatly. "But eventually, we want to be able to not rely on our fame in order to make our way in the world."

"I think that's a particularly noteworthy ambition," she agreed, beginning to see where this was going.

"I know that you've got some of our year returning to this term, but we weren't sure how practical it would be for us to…"

"I can't go pick up a Prophet without being mobbed." Mr Weasley spoke up at last.

"And we can only sit the exams…"

"If you're registered through an approved educational establishment. Yes Miss Granger, I am aware of that particular statute." She interceded, then immediately regretted her shortness.

"So basically, we'd like to register to sit the exams." Potter finished.

"You do realise that if I register you then your performance will reflect directly upon Hogwarts? That does mean that I have to sure that you have what you need in order to perform to the best of your abilities." She paused, feeling much more like the School marm, than the friend she had at the start of the conversation. "I can certainly provide you with the course outlines for each of the subjects, and I'm sure my colleagues would be more than willing to provide you with their teaching notes."

"That would be a great help, thank you, Professor."

"As for more practical assistance, well, I'll certainly be happy to help in any way I can."

"I know that you must be horribly busy - we heard, that you're still teaching." Miss Granger said, "Ginny was saying that you've still not managed to find someone."

"Not yet." Minerva said, feeling the weight of the world suddenly creep up on her again.

"I can't imagine it's easy to balance your responsibilities as Head with a full teaching schedule."

"It has its challenges." She replied smiling. "However, my students will always come first – and there are some of you who will always be my students no matter how much you grow up."

---

By the time that it was reasonable for her to excuse herself, Minerva's head was pounding again. She was more than surprised when Horace offered to escort her back to the castle.

"You're more than welcome to stay." She told him, knowing that usually he would have wanted to be there until the early hours.

"Not at all, " he brushed her off. "I have to admit to being a little worn after last nights escapades."

They apparated back to the castle gates, walking mostly in silence, as though the Slytherin could tell that her mood had changed. As they made their way through the grounds her thoughts dwelt on the evidence she had heard during the trial. Outside of the intellectual and professional atmosphere of the courtroom, they seemed to bring her memories back into focus, her own memories of those who had fought on both sides.

She didn't sleep nearly so well that night.

Tossing and turning for hours, she gave up at the back of three and simply got up. If nothing else, she supposed, she regained the time she had lost the previous morning. She waded through the mail that had arrived the previous day, and finally got around to signing the Christmas missives that Filius had prepared and even managed to take them up to the Owlery to get them sent off before breakfast.

Having asked one of the house elves for some tea and toast, she turned her attention to the notes she had made the previous day. Reading over what she had written, she was not swept-back up in the interest of the case, but rather faced with an almost overwhelming sense of the responsibility that was placed upon each and every member of the Wizengamot. However, she told herself, she had never shied away from responsibility before and she wasn't about to start now, and with that she pushed her anxieties to one side.

Half a slice of toast, and several cups of tea later, Minerva picked up her plum coloured robes once more and left for the Ministry. There was no room in her thoughts for anything other than the evidence once inside the courtroom and when they were released for lunch and the opportunity to mull over their conclusions, she immediately settled in a corner to immerse herself in the minutia of the case. Once she was confident in her own opinion though, Minerva was more than anxious to be allowed to cast her vote and move on.

As it happened, she had almost another hour to wait before the Wizengamot was recalled in order for the verdict to be taken. As it happened, most of her colleagues had agreed with her, and it was decided that the Chief and his two aides would meet again the following morning to sentence the convicted party. And with that, knowing that she had fulfilled her duties and could do no more of any worth, Minerva closed the lid on the incident, shutting it away and moving on to the next pressing matter.

Minerva hurried through the Ministry, trying to keep the socialising to a minimum, aware that time was running on and that there were several things which she would like to attend to before the Governors arrived. Much to her frustration she found, on her return to the castle, that the weather had turned and by the time she reached the heavy oak front doors, and despite her best charm work, she was soaked to the skin.

"Oh good heavens!" Her diminutive Deputy greeted her shortly after she managed to close the door on the storm. "I had hoped that my owl suggesting you might like to floo back, would catch you before you left London, but obviously it didn't."

"Obviously." She replied, removing her sodden cloak. "I'm sorry Filius," she sighed shortly afterwards, lifting a hand to pinch the bridge of her nose before thinking better of it. "Thank you for trying to let me know."

"Not at all, my dear. Now, I've set up a table in the staff room if that's acceptable, and I thought we might ask the House Elves to provide some refreshments given the season and the weather. "

She couldn't help but smile at the Ravenclaw, his bubbling enthusiasm for Christmas was spilling over into his general good humour and it was as contagious as ever.

"Thank you, I think that would be most appropriate." She agreed, "Now I think I've just about got time to change out of these ridiculous robes before…"

Filius held up a hand to forestall her.

"You have plenty of time. Go, have a shower and warm up properly and I'll welcome the guests."

"Really," Minerva attempted to protest, but knew that she was hiding to nothing as she began to shiver violently. "Thank you." She conceded. "I'll be back before four."

---

She entered the staff room at exactly 3.58, clean, dry and professional if still not exactly warm, despite additional layers of cashmere beneath her teaching robes. The meeting itself was involved, if not nearly as confrontational as she had known them to be before Arthur was chairing proceedings and there was no-one bribing the other Governors at every opportunity. Minerva picked at a slice of ginger sponge that Arthur had pushed her way, and scored another item off the agenda.

"The only other matter arising, I believe, is the issue of Staff Vacancies." Arthur began before looking up. "And more specifically, the Transfiguration post."

Minerva resisted the urge to shift in her seat; she was the Headmistress of Hogwarts and was not about to be intimidated in this regard.

"I would like to take this opportunity to acknowledge officially the Boards appreciation to the Headmistress for the level of dedication she has shown and the degree to which she has worked beyond reasonable expectations over the last few months in order to ensure there has been no disruption to the students education."

There was a collection of approving noises, and Minerva felt an even greater urge to squirm.

"We are also aware that with the return of the '8th years' to complete their NEWTs, there is going to have to be an increase in the number of practical classes run, and that we therefore need to review the situation."

There was a pause during which Minerva was determined to wait and see what was coming.

"I'm not sure about anyone else" Arthur continued trying to inject some humour, "but, my wife is beginning to get a little suspicious at all the mail I receive between the hours of one and six am."

It took Minerva a moment trace the subtle jibe back through to the fact that it was usually the small hours of the morning, either before or after she slept, that she found the time to deal with matters of School administration.

"You've been working yourself to the bone, Minerva," Augusta Longbottom declared as bluntly as ever, "and it's beginning to show."

Minerva sat up at this, frowning.

"I think, " Arthur cut in, as diplomatic as ever, "that Madame Longbottom is highlighting our concern for your wellbeing, rather than criticising the quality of your work."

"Quite right." The older witch agreed, nodding.

"I am quite well Augusta." She responded dryly. "And as much as I appreciate your concerns," she continued addressing the board at large, "unless you've found a suitable alternative…"

"We do have a number irons in the fire so to speak, " Arthur continued. "I believe that there's a young gentleman interested in the post."

"Mark Goldwing?" she asked. "I think he could be an ideal candidate, however, I was under the impression that he doesn't finish his Masters until August of next year." She looked at him, over the top of her glasses, drawing on some of the Professors intimidation tactics.

"We were hoping that he would be in a position to at least take on the younger classes…" Arthur began, seemingly at least a little cowed.

Suddenly, Minerva felt astonishingly weary. The headache that had lingered all day was only intensifying and the chill she couldn't shift seemed to have deepened.

"Arthur," she began again. "If any one of you has any practical alternative to offer – I will listen, and in all likelihood, accept it." She admitted, looking from one to the next. "I thought not." She continued with a tired smile. "In that case I shall continue to cover Transfiguration until a suitable alternative can be found."

And as far as she was concerned, the matter was closed. The atmosphere around the table wasn't quite so settled though.

"I promise, I'll try and keep my owls to office hours." she added, lightly.

---

By the time that Arthur, Augusta and the rest of the Board had left, all Minerva wanted to do was retreat to her office and hunker down in front of the fire. Time and again she had tried to get them to understand that she found dealing with their concern so much more exhausting than anything else. That was not to be however, as Horace, Pomona, and Poppy had descended on the staff room and announced that it was time for dinner.

She let their conversation wash around her, adding little but listening intermittently none the less. It wasn't until she saw that the others had finished that she looked down to see that, somewhat to her surprise her own plate was empty. As had been the case with the cake earlier, it seemed that she had eaten without really noticing.

Horace was waxing lyrical on the possibilities of desert, when Minerva had a sudden thought about an appointment scheduled for the next morning. Excusing herself from the table, Minerva crossed to where she had left her assorted papers at the end of the meeting earlier. From the bottom she pulled an organizer and opening it tapped her finger on the parchment, wandlessly summoning her own schedule to the page that had previously shown a composite of the overall timetable for next term.

Staring at it momentarily, she tried to comprehend what she was seeing before returning to the table.

"Filius?" she asked, upon the next pause in the conversation, "Have you been having any problems with your Organizer?"

"Not that I'm aware." he replied congenially. "Is there something the matter?"

"No…" she replied, "it's just that I was certain that I had a meeting with someone from Wizarding Examination Authority tomorrow morning. And I know I had a meeting with Gertro in the afternoon." She continued, with more conviction.

"You arranged a meeting with the head of the kitchen elves for Christmas eve?" Horace asked, obviously taken aback.

"Yes Horace," she replied absently as she flicked through the next few days appointments. "with the castle empty of students, it is one of the quieter times of the year. All my appointments for the next week have vanished." She continued, her frustration growing. The last thing she wanted to have to do was spend tonight trying to verify appointments left right and centre.

"Not vanished exactly, " Filius said quietly, as he held his bowl out to Pomona for Eve's pudding. "more, redistributed and re-arranged."

Minerva took a deep breath and counted to seven and a half before she responded as calmly as she could.

"Excuse me?" she asked, waving aside the offer of dessert impatiently.

Filius looked up at her, his usual genial good humour replaced with studied seriousness.

"Minerva, what you agreed to this afternoon was total madness. You know it as well as I do." He continued, forestalling her protest. "There may be no other option in terms of the Transfiguration classes, and Arthur may have made jokes regarding your work habits, but we can't ignore the fact that you are already trying to do far too much."

"He's right." Pomona echoed. "I've seen next terms timetables and you're taking on an additional four hours teaching, six hours tutoring, never mind the additional marking."

Minerva felt rather like a rabbit caught in the glare of the Night Bus's headlamps as she looked at her colleagues.

"You are a more than competent Headmistress, and you've achieved so much in the last six months that it's a wonder." Filius continued. "But there are things that you're doing that you don't have to – that we could and would gladly help with."

"I'm not sure exactly how this relates to you rearranging my diary." She commented sharply.

"That was done at my instigation." Poppy chimed in, and Minerva wondered that she had managed to keep quiet this long. "You need to slow down, I was telling you even before you had your entire nervous system fried by those stunners. You're just pushing yourself too hard."

"I'd thank you to let me make that decision myself. Now if you'll excuse me, I have some work to do. " She went to stand, but Pomona's hand on her arm forestalled her.

"Please don't Minerva." She asked quietly. "We're only saying this because we care. There have been too many good souls lost lately already…"

She wanted to rally against the ridiculousness of that statement, point out that the Hufflepuff was jumping to totally erroneous conclusions, but in the end, despite herself, she simply lost the momentum of her anger.

"Oh Pomona," she said with a tired smile. "I assure you I have no intention of going anywhere quite yet."

"Well start acting like it." Poppy suggested, pouring tea. "Your schedule has been cleared for three days, Minerva - make the most of it."

"Pretty much everything and everyone else is on holiday until the 27th, in any case." Pomona pitched in.

"We can discuss the details of who will take responsibility for what after that," Filius suggested. "but in the meantime I agree with Poppy. Take some time for yourself, recharge your batteries."

She couldn't really seem to find an answer to that.

"You know what nights like tonight call for?" Pomona suddenly declared. "A roaring fire, a good hot toddy and a well told yarn."

"Oh yes!" Filius agreed, as they all seemed to get up from the table and Minerva felt herself caught up in move towards the hearth. "Something festive!"

"Oh Horace, wont you read to us?" the Hufflepuff asked, playing to the other mans ego.

"Well…" Slughorn protested mildly. "I suppose…"

"Excellent! I think A Christmas Carol don't you?" Filius said, summoning a bound volume from a nearby shelf.

"There is something about Dickens at this time of year." Poppy chimed in, as she appeared next to Minerva once more producing a blanket as well as a tray of hot, spiced drinks.

And just like that, Minerva found herself ensconced once again on the sofa, this time revelling in a single voice but more importantly in the company.

A/N: Well, given Time Beyond Meaning was never really intended to spurn anything else I think I've done rather well. I've already started on the next part of the series – so I'd love to hear if there's anyone out there who is interested in reading it.

Thanks for reading and please do review

xLx