Yes, only at Drabble #9, and I’d wanted to do twenty. Life does somehow manage to get in the way, however, even of drabbling sometimes! I’m still aiming at twenty for the month, though!
Here’s another visit with Sybill, this one in two hundred words. It takes place during The Order of the Phoenix.
Sybill shivered, wishing for a drink. If wishes were broomsticks, beggars would ride, her grandmother used to say. In her case, beggars would drink. But she’d finished her last glass an hour ago, and Minerva had removed all the unopened bottles from her cupboard, promising to return one to her each evening. She’d said that they all had to keep their wits about them.
Minerva had been kind, warm, and comforting, staying with her while she’d settled back into her rooms, even joining her in a fortifying glass of Cabernet Sauvignon. She’d assured Sybill that as long as she and Dumbledore were at Hogwarts, she would have a home there. Nonetheless, Minerva had placed special Hogwarts wards on her rooms restricting entry. Neither Umbridge nor her minions could get in now. She wouldn’t need to leave her tower, either; a house-elf would regularly bring her meals and see to her needs.
Sybill wondered what would happen to her if Umbridge forced out both Dumbledore and Minerva. Minerva had clucked and said that wouldn’t happen, but Sybill had caught the flicker in Minerva’s eye as she spoke. Minerva was no more sure that Umbridge wouldn’t have her way than Sybill was.