"I can't hear you!" I screamed into the wind.
"What" the tall man in the cloak attempted to reply
Spells were flying everywhere, there was really nowhere to turn, I was trapped, and we all were. I pinned myself against a boulder attempting to brace myself as I set personal wards when it all went wrong. It wasn't supposed to turn out like this, I should have prepared better. That was my job. I think about what was happening, to prevent things from happening. I was the woman behind the plan. Then I failed them all. This was supposed to be a routine raid. Prepare for the final battle; take out some of the higher ranking death eaters. It wasn't supposed to happen like this.
I lay sopping wet on the grass. I know that death is inevitable. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. That is all I keep saying, I just keep chanting inside my head "not like this, not like this". I was mad, and I didn't care. I just lay there holding his head. Holding Ron, or what was once Ron. Screams wracked my body. I could feel it building.
"Leave her" he masked figure said as he pocketed his wand "She will die soon, surrounded by those she was supposed to lead to victory; our master will want to hear of our success. Bring Potter's head"
"Noooooo" I sobbed into the rain, attempting to lift myself from the ground. "Kill me please"
Just a pop, and I was left alone bloodied and broken screaming. Then I felt it again. The building. That's all I can describe it as. A building of something within me. I just laid my head on the grass, let it come. Maybe this is what death feels like?
Then a flash, and then floating, and then whispering. Too many voices, like I couldn't find my way against them. Pushing, whispering, saying things in languages I couldn't understand. I couldn't speak, I couldn't resist. Why would I. My body was gone, ravaged and torn and useless to anyone. I welcomed to. I opened up to the pain, to the whispering darkness…. Then silence… deep silence.
"bloody hell" I felt terrible. Then "I'm alive" I tried in vain to open my eyes, they seemed sealed with the grudge from the raid. I couldn't bare to move my limbs, I felt the weight of my life. I struggled and finally gave in. If I was alive there was nothing I could do about it, most likely I was in the camp. The place anyone who revolted against Voldemort ended up. I didn't even care, maybe I could die now. Possible someone would come and kill me.
Then I heard the footsteps. "Just be done with it" I whispered, "you have already taken everything from me, there is nothing more you can do, so just be on with it. No mind games."
No one answered. "Damn you" I said with more force. My anger was beginning to strengthen my resolve, at least I could possibly look death in the face.
I pulled all my energy toward my new goal, with a grunt I opened my eyes and shocked myself into unconsciousness, for I was staring up at the one person I always depended on; The first death that truly spelled the end for me. Minerva
Floo powder was flung into the fire with urgency as Minerva McGonagall rushed into action. She had seen many things pass through her grate before, but the form of this woman was one she would never forget. She couldn't even siphon enough air to fill her lungs for a moment. It was truly shocking to see a young girl, a woman appear near death into her chambers.
"Dumbledore!" her voice rasped into the grate, "Come through immediately!"
She bunched her skirt and neared the stranger, checking for a pulse. It was there if barely.
"Minerva, what do I owe the plea…. Oh dear" his face winkled uncomfortable as it did whenever he faced a sudden crisis.
Without hesitation he swept the young woman into his arms and into the grate. "Hospital Wing"
"Poppy" he shouted. It was just after dinner, she should still be restocking for the coming year.
"Professor Dum…" A gasp escaped her, the third desperate intake of air that evening.
"Place her in triage" the Nurse called going into her "War mode" as they called it frequently. Never was I so happy for her employment. She truly was wasted on Quidditch accidents, and potions explosions.
She went to work as I stared, I could feel the magic and see the glow around the white curtain. What would this year bring. Minerva sat down beside me silently, still shaken.
"What has happened?" she stated, her welsh accent weighing heavily in the conversation.
"How did this come to pass, do you know her?" I stated
"I was sure you had an explanation" she said shaking her head.
"We will wait then" I said standing and returning to my office. I needed to ponder further on tonight's events"
It was soft when I awoke. So strange and secure, then alarming. I opened my eyes to find a site I thought I would never see again. This was wrong. I rolled from the hospital bed. Whining at the sudden amount of pressure and pain. Keeping myself low to the ground I looked for my wand….. nothing. Grabbing the first thing I saw, a metal bowl, I backed from the doors. I would go down fighting. Dead faces appeared in my mind, the bowl dropped. I sharp noise to my left shook me from my revere. I turned prepared to charge…. Then I saw her eyes, her face, her gloved hands. Minerva. She was a mother to me before…. She's dead… this can't be.
"Are you quite alright?" I said, knowing that it made no sence.
"Min.. Minerva?"
"Poppy, come and collect your patient please" I called, seeing her state. This strange woman knew my name, and was practically manic?
"No" she says heightening her stance, yet leaning heavily onto a bed rail. "Someone will tell me what is going on" she begs
"Your all dead, dear God, I have gone insane, or this is some new form of torture.. what the standard forms don't work as well anymore. Found that I can take more than you expected" she yells to the ceiling
Poppy walks steadily toward her… "A calming draught?" she says holding out a beeker of light green liquid.
She takes it, shots it back and slumps in the floor.
"Minerva, Poppy" she says quietly "What is happening, are you real?"
I don't know what to say. The girl is obviously breaking. From the looks of it she has been though a battle. She sits against the wall, hair cut to the chin and matted in places. Poppy wiped the blood and grime from her revealing scars. So many scars. This woman looks to have been through battle.
"Yes, I will assure you that all of this is quite real. Poppy go and fix the girl….. some broth… yes and I will take some tea. Call the headmaster. We will be fine"
Something in me is calling to her, like I can't place her, but I know her. I sit on the floor, without speaking. She lays her hear against the window and stares at the sky.
"Everything seems very real, you seem real. What is going on" I say again. I'm feeling slightly better. If this is torture or insanity, it's much better that what I was seeing yesterday. Then the faces come back and I shake them away.
"Why are you so young" I say mostly to myself. It's true the gray has gone from her hair and her skin is slightly tighter, though still marked in a permanent frown. Then I feel it. It's an idea, a plausible explanation. One not involving my death, torture or insanity. Like a light it spews out of me.
"What is the date" she stammers so I repeat "What is the date"
Dumbledore's kind face pears from the door.
"August 5th 1977, and might I add that it has been very nippy in the evenings already. Quite unlike years previous, though nothing a good pair of socks can't solve" he stated kindly.
"Some good wool ones I presume, do you have a pair to spare?" I add smiling. I don't know what kind of joke this is but my mind is already revolving around a solution. A plan. This time I won't fail. I will keep everyone with me. I have been thrown into the past, but damn it if I won't make the best.
"What is your name child, and from when do you come?" he says, taking a seat, and the tea and eavesdropping Poppy was offering.
"1998, from here, from the War…. It doesn't stop. It doesn't end like it's supposed to. We were supposed to beat him… then he found it. He found the prophesy, let go of his pride and sent his generals to kill us all. Lord Voldemort wins." I say holding my hands out to show my emaciated, scarred body. "I'm the last, I was left to watch, and now I'm here."
"Well…" he says with a pause, then a twinkle "I believe fate has called you into service. Where do we begin?"
I start to think to myself… It's 1977, so many changes must be made…..
"I need a wand, and I need to finish my seventh year" I say thinking hard. This is the best place to be. I have a year before Harry is born, and another before everyone starts to die.