Minerva was sitting at her desk, correcting the last of the homework assignments before the holidays. Behind her, one could see large snowflakes slowly falling onto the grounds of Hogwarts. She heard a knock on her door.
“Come in, please,” she said, looking up, her stern expression softening as she recognized the matron.
“Hello, Minnie,” Poppy said, smiling warmly back at her.
“Poppy, what brings you here?”
“There are flames everywhere in the castle. They seem to be harmless, but Albus asked me if we could research why they’re here.”
Minerva raised an eyebrow. “I’m still correcting papers. Are the others all busy?”
“Yes, Filius is decorating the Great Hall, and Hagrid, for example, is out felling the Christmas trees.”
Minerva sighed. “Well, well, let’s investigate then.”
“I saw one in front of the Gryffindor common room,” Poppy said and led Minerva there.
They arrived and saw a flame dancing next to a statue, its warm light reflecting off the stone.
Minerva took a closer look at it and frowned. “Are there figures in the flames?”
“What do you mean? Like a Floo Powder fire?” Poppy asked, stepping closer. Slowly, the picture grew clearer. “It’s the Potter boy,” she whispered.
They saw a younger version of Harry Potter and Ron Weasley in their first year, unboxing their Christmas presents. Harry looked as though he’d never received a gift in his life, his genuine laughter warming their hearts as they watched him open a present, a handmade flute, apparently crafted by Hagrid.
“It looks like this fire is showing us past Christmases,” McGonagall said with a smile. Deciding she wanted to keep the flame rather than extinguish it, she quickly summoned a large jar and captured the flame inside.
As they continued they find a flame next to the Quidditch field. The fire of the flame melted the snow around it and casted a warm light on the house banners which normally cheered for the quidditch teams, throwing playful shadows.
It showed them a memory of a snowy Quidditch match. The Gryffindor team, which back then was led by a younger Minerva McGonagall, is celebrating after a victory against Slytherin. Snow is falling heavily, but the players are too happy to care. The younger Minerva, bundled in a deep red scarf, laughs as she is transformed the snow with a flick of her wand into a giant snow lion bawling out their victory to the whole castle.
Poppy watches the scene unfold and smirks. “You were such a firecracker back then, Minnie. Luckily I barely had to heal any injuries.“
Minerva adjusts her glasses, trying to hide her blush. “I was simply doing my part as a good team captain,” she cleared her throat. “I‘d better focus on capturing this flame before those banners catch fire.“ She caught the flame in a jar, but the nostalgic smile lingers on her face.
They roamed through the castle, finding flames here and there. Most displayed happy memories, but McGonagall stumbled upon one that sent shivers down her spine—a memory of Tom Riddle at a Slug Club party. Knowing it would worry Poppy, who was examining another flame across the room, she quickly extinguished it.
She turned, the sound of laughter was drawing her away from her dark thoughts. She saw Poppy laughing softly at another flame.
Joining her, Minerva saw Remus Lupin and the Marauders in a snowball fight.
“Look, Minnie, there’s Remus. How I miss the days when he was still at school. I’m so proud of him for becoming the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher,” Poppy said, but after a moment her expression grew somber. “They were so happy back then. Look at Black—he later betrayed his friends. My poor boy lost everything.”
Minerva tried to comfort her by patting her back. “I think we should give this flame to Remus. Even though it shows Black, he might find comfort in seeing James and Peter.”
Poppy nodded and summoned a small jar. With a flick of her wand she made the flame float into the jar. Its flickering lights casted a warm light on the runes etched into the glass.
They find the next flame near the entrance to the kitchens. This one was larger than the others, flickering in warm tones of orange and gold.
Inside the memory, they discover a young Hagrid, hosting a private Christmas feast in his hut. Under the guests are a teenage Minerva, Pomona Sprout, and Poppy Pomfrey, all still students at the time. Hagrid is proudly serving a oversized turkey, which was a bit too long in the oven, that barely fits on the table. As dessert he made his stone like rock cakes.
It shows the three girls laughing as they try to slice the enormous turkey, while Hagrid looks proud. “A good feast fer good friends,” he says, his cheeks blushed from a bit too much firewhisky.
Poppy grins. “Do you remember this, Minnie? I was sick for days after eating too much.”
Minerva chuckles. “I remember Hagrid insisting on each of us taking a bag full of rock cakes.“
The flame radiates warmth, reminding them of Hagrid’s kindness. They decide to capture the memory and later share it with Hagrid, who would delighted to see it again.
With bittersweet feelings, they continued their task. Eventually, they found themselves in a room they used to sneak off to as students at Hogwarts.
Poppy looked shyly at Minerva, unsure whether to speak. But Minerva was fixated on the flame in the center of the room.
It showed a younger version of themselves in the same room, both in their Hogwarts uniforms, exchanging gifts. Poppy had given Minerva a handwoven scarf in a deep green, her favorite color even then. Minerva had given Poppy a leather-bound notebook with an enchanted picture of the two of them on the cover.
Her composure wavered as she watched their younger versions, the nostalgia was catching her off guard. Minerva turned to Poppy and couldn’t help but smile. With a softer voice than usual she said “I still have that scarf.”
“I have the notebook,” Poppy said softly,”It was too precious, I felt like nothing I could write into it would be as worthy as what it meant to me”
“Oh, Poppy,” Minerva said, without thinking she pulled her into a tender embrace, caressing her back.
Poppy buried her head in Minerva’s green cloak, with a muffled voice she told her, “I missed you.”
“I missed you too,” Minerva whispered back. Her arms thightening a bit, It took them a couple of moments until they loosened their hug. They trapped the memory in a special jar, its light preserving their memory forever.
Finally, they managed to find all the flames.
They stumbled upon the last one in the Great Hall, where they had already been earlier.
“This one is unusual,” they noted, frowning.
Hearing suspicious familiar cackling, they turned a corner and discovered the Weasley twins.
“Messrs. Weasley?” McGonagall said sternly.
They boys froze mid-step. “Good evening, Professor McGonagall” Fred said cheerfully.
“It’s a lovely night for a bit of festive magic, isn’t it?” George added, nudging his brother.
McGonagall crossed her arms, her stern expression cutting through their off-showing. “Were the two of you responsible for the castle-wide ignition of flames?”
Fred and George exchanged mischievous looks. “Well, we thought-,” Fred began.
“-it would be a wonderful way to get everyone into the Christmas spirit,“ George finished.
The professor cleared her throat, and opened her mouth, ready to deduct points from Gryffindor, but Madam Pomfrey gently placed a hand on her forearm. “Professor, perhaps let it slide just this once. The flames brought us all more joy than harm. They accomplished their goal with us, didn’t they?” she said with a wink.
McGonagall gave her a sidelong look, her lips suppressing a smile and sighed. “Consider yourselves lucky today boys. Now off to your common room and get ready before I change my mind.”
The Weasleys grinned and hurried off, their laughter echoing behind them.
Minerva shook her head as she turned back to Poppy. “Your far to soft for them.“
“And you are far too hard on yourself,” the matron countered gently and took Minervas hand. “We have spent the evening reliving memories that were buried for far too long. Maybe it’s time to make some new ones.”
Minerva hesitated, but the warmth in Poppy’s eyes left no room for argument. She gave a small nod. “Perhaps you’re right.”
Poppy smiled and pulled her into a hug. “Minnie, let’s spend this Christmas together. No work. No distractions. Just us.”
Minerva’s shoulders relaxed, and a rare, genuine smile spread across her face. “I think I’d like that.”
As they turned to leave, Poppy stopped and glanced back at the small, hesitant flame. “Do you think we missed one?”
Minerva followed her gaze, her expression softening as she observed the small, flickering flame. It was weaker than the others they had encountered, its light hesitant and unfinished, as if it hadn’t fully taken shape. She glanced back at where they had nearly caught the Weasley twins, no doubt casting this very flame. “No,” she said after a moment. “This one wasn’t fully formed. It’s likely they ran out of time before finishing it.”
The two women smiled at each other and then walked out of the Great Hall, hand in hand, leaving behind a castle aglow with flickering memories and the promise of a joyful Christmas to come.