How do Albus and Minerva celebrate the end of term? And just how did she become Head of Gryffindor as well as Deputy Headmistress? In this short story, Minerva finds that some rituals are both pleasant and unpleasant.
Minerva arrived in his office at precisely four twenty-nine. She performed the spell that opened the bookcase hiding the door to his private quarters, then went into the sitting room that adjoined the office.
She had got to the bedroom door and was about to open it when it surprised her by flying open of its own accord. An invisible force pulled her into the room and deposited her at the foot of the large, four-poster bed that had dominated the room since the first time she had been in it more than twenty years ago.
Lying in the middle of the bed with his hands tucked casually behind his head and a sheet covering him to the waist was Albus Dumbledore. He was not wearing a nightshirt.
“Professor McGonagall, you are two minutes late,” he said, grinning at her.
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