A/N: Here I am again! It had been far too long since I had written a Harry Potter story, so I decided to write this down. It will be two chapters long. I hope you'll enjoy it! Reviews are greatly appreciated!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. There would be a lot more money in my bank account if I did…

Chapter one

A soft breeze blew through the leaves of the trees of the Forbidden Forest. It caressed the rumble and broken glass laying shattered in the green grass alongside the Hogwarts walls. It blew a sad tune suited for the history this building and its inhabitants had recently experienced.

In one of the rooms on the first floor, Minerva McGonagall sat pondering the aforementioned history and how they were to continue after everything that had happened in these past two years. It seemed as if the only things they had left now were the memories of happier days, but God knew that was not enough.

The school had sustained a tremendous amount of damage. Every window in the Great Hall and the surrounding corridors was broken. Stones had come falling down during the final battle. The magic that had once protected this school had resided in the stones and glass of which it had been made, imbedded in it by its four founders to keep those inside Hogwarts' walls from harm. She feared that the school would never be protected the way it had been before. Too much of the knowledge Gryffindor, Hufflepuf, Ravenclaw and Slytherin had had, was now lost. What would the parents say when they found out? Would they still allow their children to return to Hogwarts?

But most of all she was afraid of what the last war had done to all of the students. Families had been torn apart. Parents had had to bury their children. Children were left without parents to look after them. How could they all find the strength and courage to go on after they had lost so many friends and most of their families?

She turned away from the window she had been facing. The air had grown too dark. Too many memories lingered in the shadows. In every raindrop running over it, she saw the face of someone who had lost his life during the last fight for freedom the Wizarding world had fought.

But even without staring outside she was reminded of the sacrifices this war had taken. Albus Dumbledore, Charity Burbage, thousands of other nameless men and women who had wanted nothing more than to return to the peaceful life they had once had.

It was difficult to find escape from the pain and horror she had seen, she admitted to herself. Too much blood, to many dead faces. She doubted she would ever have a peaceful night of sleep without being woken up by a nightmare about the Dark Lord or his Death Eaters.

Luckily she was brought back to the present when she heard a soft knock on her door. She wondered who it might be, as she had not been expecting any visitors. Only three days after the final battle she thought ministry official should have the courtesy to at least give people the time to come to terms with it all.

Upon opening the door, however, she was pleasantly surprised to see the last person she had expected to see had come to pay her a visit.

"Good evening, professor McGonagall," Harry Potter spoke as soon as she opened the door.

"Good evening, mister Potter," she greeted. "Don't be so formal, though. Minerva will do, after everything that's happened"

"Well, then I suppose you could do me a favor, too, and call me Harry."

She nodded her agreement whilst gesturing for him to step into her small living room and hand her his cloak. She could see it was wet from the drizzling rain that had been falling outside since darkness had set in. He handed it to her.

It was silent for a few moments. Harry looked at the room, noticing immediately that it lacked any photographs about his former professor's past.

He didn't have a lot of time to think about that, though, as Minerva stepped back into the room.

"Would you like to have some tea?" she asked him.

"That would be wonderful, thanks. It's rather cold outside," he added almost as an afterthought.

She couldn't help but smile slightly at hearing him say that. Harry, however, did not see that.

"Blinkey," she called upon one of the House Elves.

"Yes, miss?" the small creature spoke mere moments after having been called.

"Could you get us two cups of tea, please?"

Happy to be of any help, the House Elves disappeared back to the kitchens to do as she had been told.

The both of them took a seat opposite one another while they awaited her return. Harry was glad to be warmer and drier than he had been when he had walked through the gates.

The rain was still falling outside. It tapped against the window constantly, but the monotone sound only calmed Minerva. She had always liked the rain. When she was a young girl her father used to tell her that when it rained, the Angels were crying. Now, she thought he might just have been right.

Blinkey handed them two steaming cups of ordinary green tea a minute later, just as Minerva liked it. Harry made no complains either.

"What brought you here, Harry?" she wanted to know. "The last thing I heard was you had left for Grimmauldplace as soon as you had said goodbye to your friends and had visited professor Dumbledore's office one last time."

"I did go there. After the battle, I needed to feel close to the bounds I had with my family. So I went back to my old house and their graves, and moved into my godfather's old place," he explained.

Minerva voiced her disbelieve, although very discreetly, at him deciding to do that. Wouldn't it have been better to find a nicer place to live?

"Oh, I don't plan on staying there forever, if that's what you're asking, Minerva," the young man said. "Mister and misses Weasley have asked me to move in with them. Ron is my best friend, and Ginny and I have picked up where we left off before I dropped out of Hogwarts."

So they had pursued their relationship after all, she mused. She was happy they had. Those two were meant to be together. It had broken her heart when she had heard Harry had left Ginny.

"I'm sorry to say this, Harry, but you still haven't informed me what you came here to do. I take it you did not stop by to engage in small talk with an old woman like me," she suddenly spoke.

She might have been mistaken, but she thought she saw concern and a little nervousness flicker across his face at those words. It was quickly dispelled, though, so she wasn't completely sure what she saw.

Harry bend over and placed his half empty cup of tea on the table. Silence fell between them as he tried to find the right words to say what he had come here to ask of her. He knew she would not like his next words in the least, and he wanted to make things as easy on her as he possibly could.

"You do know that Severus is being tomorrow, don't you?" he softly asked her.

He saw her whole body tense. He had known she would react like that, but he had hoped she would have gotten passed her anger towards the man non-the-less. He had. After he had seen those memories, he understood Snape had only done what he had done because he had been forced to do it. It had been brave and selfless.

"I am well aware of that, mister Potter," she said.

So they were back at last names? He decided not to pay attention and continue anyway.

"Molly told me you aren't coming to the funeral. I was really sorry to hear that. I have to admit I came by to see whether there was anything I could say that would make you change your mind."

"I can assure nothing you could say could possibly make me change my mind. Too much has happened for that the ever be possible."

Her voice was hard and cold. As were her green eyes. Harry clearly saw the pain in them. He knew she was thinking about how Severus Snape had killed her best friend, Albus Dumbledore. He wished he could tell her Dumbledore had asked him to do that, but she would not listen.

"Then I am wasting not only your time, but mine as well. Well, at least I tried. I should be going now."

He rose from the couch. Minerva handed him his cloak and bade him farewell at her door. He told her one last thing before he took his leave.

"You know, Albus wouldn't have wanted you to hate Severus. He didn't hate him either."