A soft knock on his door made Albus Dumbledore look up from the suitcase he was packing.
"Come in." he said, a pair of yellow-blue striped socks in his hand.
A moment later, a tall, dark-haired girl came in, carefully closing the door behind her back.
As she turned around again to speak to her teacher, her smile froze on her face.
"Professor?"
Albus smiled, but there was a bit of sadness in her ever-twinkling eyes.
"Hello, Minerva."
"What," She bit her lips, not knowing whether she really wanted to know. "what are you doing, Professor- if it is permitted to ask."
Albus sighed as he sat down, and made a vague gesture towards a large chair on the other side of the room.
"Sit down, Minerva."
She did as he'd asked, but the mass of questions readable in her beautiful, blue eyes hurt him. He'd known it was coming. He'd known it was inevitable. He could not keep this hidden from his beloved students. And certainly not from this girl- Minerva McGonagall, a seventh-year, his star pupil.
She was still gazing at him, and he saw her lips slowly form words.
"What is wrong, Professor Dumbledore?"
He inhaled- and exhaled again.
Then- with a sudden twitch of his ever-present humor, he chuckled
"You know what is wrong, Minerva. You would better ask what isn't wrong. That would certainly make a shorter list."
Immediately, he knew he'd made a mistake. This was not any ordinary student- she had never been one and she would certainly never become one. She knew, as did he, that this wasn't a time for joking. Her eyes almost literally spat fire.
"Don't joke with me, Professor!" she snapped, silently wondering where she got the courage to speak to her teacher in such a tone. Yet, she continued.
"I am not a child. I sometimes wish I was one- a child, like most of those fellow students of mine. It would make things easier for me, believe me."
He bit his lip and lowered his eyes.
"I know, Minerva, I am sorry."
"Why are you leaving?"
"Grindelwald." he finally answered flatly.
He saw her eyelashes tremble slightly at the sound of what probably was the most feared name of all times. Yet, she showed no other signs of surprise. Nerves of steel.
"Oh." she then said simply.
He nodded slowly.
"Yes, Grindelwald. The final battle approaches, Minerva. He has been terrorizing the wizarding world for almost six years now. The final battle approaches, and someone will have to fight it."
"And will that have to be you?" she asked calmly, raising her eyebrows in that very typical way of hers.
"Yes."
"Why?"
Her question came out quickly, still very calm, but with an undercurrent of her obvious doubt.
He swallowed very slowly, catching her eyes with his glare.
"Because," he then explained softly. "I am the only person who possibly can do it."
With a slow gesture of her hand, she stopped him, a faint smile playing on her lips.
"I know that, Professor. But why now?'
"Because the Headmaster has only now given me permission to leave the school, and…"
He did not finish his sentence. A fiery blush had appeared on his student's cheeks. She brusquely stood up- and fell down on the chair again. With clear trouble, she stammered
"What? But Professor… that is criminal! Headmaster Dippet… does he know… why… Six bloody years of killing, massacre, torture have passed! And only now… The Headmaster…"
"…is an old man, Minerva. Armando Dippet isn't the strong, great wizard he once was. He is frightened. I have tried to persuade him for years. He didn't give in. But, Minerva, I want you to remember that everything he's done… He did it for Hogwarts, Minerva, for this wonderful place which we both love."
He looked at his pupil. The red blushes had disappeared a bit, but it was very obvious that Minerva McGonagall didn't, and could never, agree with her Headmaster's choices. She was a Gryffindor, after all, and the courage that ran through her veins was not easily ignorable.
Yet, she sighed.
"Yes, I guess I can understand the Headmaster's reasoning. Yet..."
She shook her head, and then looked straight into her teacher's light blue eyes.
"Grindelwald has murdered my father, Professor. I'll never ever forget that. Grindelwald has murdered my father and thus broken my mother's heart."
"I know that, Minerva."
He took her shaking hand and softly squeezed it.
"That is one of the main reasons I have decided to part as quickly as possible. I don't want any more lives to be destroyed just because I- or the Headmaster- lingered too long."
Minerva looked at him.
"The final battle will cost lives as well, Professor." she then stated silently.
He sighed.
"I know that, my dear. Too many young boys have sacrificed their lives for this cause. Too many powerful young wizards have died. But I am going now- and I am going to fight the ultimate battle. If Grindelwald defeats me, then it's over. Our armies have weakened…"
He did not want to show her how frightened he really was, but she felt it and spoke
"Grindelwald will not defeat you."
Albus smiled faintly but shrugged his shoulders.
"He is very powerful, Minerva, and I have to admit there is not much hope left. But one thing is known for sure- I am prepared to die for this. I don't expect to return unless victorious."
He bit his lips and looked at his student. Her jade green eyes were dark with fear, but she managed to keep her face motionless. Then, in a sudden gesture of support, she laid her hand on his.
As he smiled, she slowly continued, more to herself than to her teacher
"I wished I could…"
And then the great, dangerous idea leapt into her mind…
Minerva McGonagall had always been a somewhat dangerous girl, the combination of her Scottish stubbornness and her great intelligence often proved to be a rather- extraordinary combination.
"But," she quickly interrupted herself. "when are you actually leaving, Professor?"
Albus sighed again. If he had to be perfectly honest with himself, he had to admit he didn't want to leave. Yet, he knew he had to.
"Tomorrow evening, Minerva. I am leaving tomorrow evening."
Minerva nodded and bit her lips. Then, immediately, she said
"I am going with you."
The determined look in her eyes was unmistakable.
Albus startled.
"No, you are not!"
He shook his head.
"You certainly aren't. Of course not, this is ridiculous."
Her jade eyes caught his gaze. He saw he'd hurt her.
"Is it really ridiculous, Albus? Is it ridiculous that I, seventeen years old, want to fight for those I love?"
Albus sighed.
"No, it is not, Minerva, but you have to understand it. You are way too young to-"
"Boys of my age have already given their lives for…"
"Boys, Minerva, you are a girl."
The blood flushed to her cheeks.
"What does that mean, Professor? Am I… do you think we girls cannot fight? Do you think…"
She was trembling heavily now, and she rested her hand on her chest- to calm herself, probably.
Albus raised a hand.
"I don't think such things, Minerva. I think girls are more vulnerable…"
"More vulnerable? I don't believe what I am hearing. You, Professor, you, who…"
She was almost crying now- no war, no sadness could make her cry, but this anger, frustration, could easily do so. As a tear rolled down her cheek, her eyebrows still arched in fury, he took her hand again.
"No, Minerva, I don't think girls are inferior in any way to boys. But they are more vulnerable, whether you like it or not, and you are so young. I don't want you to get hurt."
"I want to go."
Albus raised his eyebrows and stood up.
"You are a stubborn one, Minerva, but you are not, by any means *not*, going with me."
Minerva stood up as well, still tears in her eyes, but a determined look on her face.
"Then we are finished talking. Goodbye, Professor."
Albus nodded shortly and turned around.
Minerva nodded as well, took her dark green cloak and started to leave.
"Minerva…"
She turned around again. Albus laid his hand on her arm.
"Don't be angry with me. If I am going to die, then please think good of me. I have always liked you, my star pupil."
He chuckled softly, but Minerva recognized it as what it really was- a disguised sob.
Suddenly, she took her teacher's hands.
With a somewhat broken voice, she then muttered
"I will always think good of you, Professor. Goodbye."
Albus slowly nodded as his beloved pupil finally left.
"Farewell, Minerva."
But what Albus didn't see, was the look on her face as she entered the Gryffindor Common Room again.
Determination. Stubbornness. Certainty.
And that ever-present witty intelligence.
No way Minerva McGonagall would ever give up this easily.
"Come in." he said, a pair of yellow-blue striped socks in his hand.
A moment later, a tall, dark-haired girl came in, carefully closing the door behind her back.
As she turned around again to speak to her teacher, her smile froze on her face.
"Professor?"
Albus smiled, but there was a bit of sadness in her ever-twinkling eyes.
"Hello, Minerva."
"What," She bit her lips, not knowing whether she really wanted to know. "what are you doing, Professor- if it is permitted to ask."
Albus sighed as he sat down, and made a vague gesture towards a large chair on the other side of the room.
"Sit down, Minerva."
She did as he'd asked, but the mass of questions readable in her beautiful, blue eyes hurt him. He'd known it was coming. He'd known it was inevitable. He could not keep this hidden from his beloved students. And certainly not from this girl- Minerva McGonagall, a seventh-year, his star pupil.
She was still gazing at him, and he saw her lips slowly form words.
"What is wrong, Professor Dumbledore?"
He inhaled- and exhaled again.
Then- with a sudden twitch of his ever-present humor, he chuckled
"You know what is wrong, Minerva. You would better ask what isn't wrong. That would certainly make a shorter list."
Immediately, he knew he'd made a mistake. This was not any ordinary student- she had never been one and she would certainly never become one. She knew, as did he, that this wasn't a time for joking. Her eyes almost literally spat fire.
"Don't joke with me, Professor!" she snapped, silently wondering where she got the courage to speak to her teacher in such a tone. Yet, she continued.
"I am not a child. I sometimes wish I was one- a child, like most of those fellow students of mine. It would make things easier for me, believe me."
He bit his lip and lowered his eyes.
"I know, Minerva, I am sorry."
"Why are you leaving?"
"Grindelwald." he finally answered flatly.
He saw her eyelashes tremble slightly at the sound of what probably was the most feared name of all times. Yet, she showed no other signs of surprise. Nerves of steel.
"Oh." she then said simply.
He nodded slowly.
"Yes, Grindelwald. The final battle approaches, Minerva. He has been terrorizing the wizarding world for almost six years now. The final battle approaches, and someone will have to fight it."
"And will that have to be you?" she asked calmly, raising her eyebrows in that very typical way of hers.
"Yes."
"Why?"
Her question came out quickly, still very calm, but with an undercurrent of her obvious doubt.
He swallowed very slowly, catching her eyes with his glare.
"Because," he then explained softly. "I am the only person who possibly can do it."
With a slow gesture of her hand, she stopped him, a faint smile playing on her lips.
"I know that, Professor. But why now?'
"Because the Headmaster has only now given me permission to leave the school, and…"
He did not finish his sentence. A fiery blush had appeared on his student's cheeks. She brusquely stood up- and fell down on the chair again. With clear trouble, she stammered
"What? But Professor… that is criminal! Headmaster Dippet… does he know… why… Six bloody years of killing, massacre, torture have passed! And only now… The Headmaster…"
"…is an old man, Minerva. Armando Dippet isn't the strong, great wizard he once was. He is frightened. I have tried to persuade him for years. He didn't give in. But, Minerva, I want you to remember that everything he's done… He did it for Hogwarts, Minerva, for this wonderful place which we both love."
He looked at his pupil. The red blushes had disappeared a bit, but it was very obvious that Minerva McGonagall didn't, and could never, agree with her Headmaster's choices. She was a Gryffindor, after all, and the courage that ran through her veins was not easily ignorable.
Yet, she sighed.
"Yes, I guess I can understand the Headmaster's reasoning. Yet..."
She shook her head, and then looked straight into her teacher's light blue eyes.
"Grindelwald has murdered my father, Professor. I'll never ever forget that. Grindelwald has murdered my father and thus broken my mother's heart."
"I know that, Minerva."
He took her shaking hand and softly squeezed it.
"That is one of the main reasons I have decided to part as quickly as possible. I don't want any more lives to be destroyed just because I- or the Headmaster- lingered too long."
Minerva looked at him.
"The final battle will cost lives as well, Professor." she then stated silently.
He sighed.
"I know that, my dear. Too many young boys have sacrificed their lives for this cause. Too many powerful young wizards have died. But I am going now- and I am going to fight the ultimate battle. If Grindelwald defeats me, then it's over. Our armies have weakened…"
He did not want to show her how frightened he really was, but she felt it and spoke
"Grindelwald will not defeat you."
Albus smiled faintly but shrugged his shoulders.
"He is very powerful, Minerva, and I have to admit there is not much hope left. But one thing is known for sure- I am prepared to die for this. I don't expect to return unless victorious."
He bit his lips and looked at his student. Her jade green eyes were dark with fear, but she managed to keep her face motionless. Then, in a sudden gesture of support, she laid her hand on his.
As he smiled, she slowly continued, more to herself than to her teacher
"I wished I could…"
And then the great, dangerous idea leapt into her mind…
Minerva McGonagall had always been a somewhat dangerous girl, the combination of her Scottish stubbornness and her great intelligence often proved to be a rather- extraordinary combination.
"But," she quickly interrupted herself. "when are you actually leaving, Professor?"
Albus sighed again. If he had to be perfectly honest with himself, he had to admit he didn't want to leave. Yet, he knew he had to.
"Tomorrow evening, Minerva. I am leaving tomorrow evening."
Minerva nodded and bit her lips. Then, immediately, she said
"I am going with you."
The determined look in her eyes was unmistakable.
Albus startled.
"No, you are not!"
He shook his head.
"You certainly aren't. Of course not, this is ridiculous."
Her jade eyes caught his gaze. He saw he'd hurt her.
"Is it really ridiculous, Albus? Is it ridiculous that I, seventeen years old, want to fight for those I love?"
Albus sighed.
"No, it is not, Minerva, but you have to understand it. You are way too young to-"
"Boys of my age have already given their lives for…"
"Boys, Minerva, you are a girl."
The blood flushed to her cheeks.
"What does that mean, Professor? Am I… do you think we girls cannot fight? Do you think…"
She was trembling heavily now, and she rested her hand on her chest- to calm herself, probably.
Albus raised a hand.
"I don't think such things, Minerva. I think girls are more vulnerable…"
"More vulnerable? I don't believe what I am hearing. You, Professor, you, who…"
She was almost crying now- no war, no sadness could make her cry, but this anger, frustration, could easily do so. As a tear rolled down her cheek, her eyebrows still arched in fury, he took her hand again.
"No, Minerva, I don't think girls are inferior in any way to boys. But they are more vulnerable, whether you like it or not, and you are so young. I don't want you to get hurt."
"I want to go."
Albus raised his eyebrows and stood up.
"You are a stubborn one, Minerva, but you are not, by any means *not*, going with me."
Minerva stood up as well, still tears in her eyes, but a determined look on her face.
"Then we are finished talking. Goodbye, Professor."
Albus nodded shortly and turned around.
Minerva nodded as well, took her dark green cloak and started to leave.
"Minerva…"
She turned around again. Albus laid his hand on her arm.
"Don't be angry with me. If I am going to die, then please think good of me. I have always liked you, my star pupil."
He chuckled softly, but Minerva recognized it as what it really was- a disguised sob.
Suddenly, she took her teacher's hands.
With a somewhat broken voice, she then muttered
"I will always think good of you, Professor. Goodbye."
Albus slowly nodded as his beloved pupil finally left.
"Farewell, Minerva."
But what Albus didn't see, was the look on her face as she entered the Gryffindor Common Room again.
Determination. Stubbornness. Certainty.
And that ever-present witty intelligence.
No way Minerva McGonagall would ever give up this easily.