Minerva McGonagall has an unexpected visitor as she lies in St Mungo's recovering from the stunning incident in OOtP.
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She lay absolutely still, basking in the blessed golden warmth of the sun that seeped through her closed eyelids. When that glorious heat was cut off abruptly by a sudden expanse of blackness, she could not repress a soft groan. Slowly, she opened her eyes, the effort exhausting her more than it should. She did not need to see the features of the huge black silhouette that stood beside her bed to identify him, for it could only be one person.
..she remembers him as a first former already towering above everyone else, even the teachers...
"Hello, Perfessor," the black silhouette said, obviously trying to keep his voice soft and low.
..they've known each other for more than fifty years, and never once, in all that time, has he ever called her by her given name...
"Hagrid," she murmured hoarsely, hating the fact that her voice betrayed her weakness.
The half-giant hunkered down beside her bed and whipped a large bunch of thistles, heather and red-and-gold roses from behind his back. It had clearly been assembled with her in mind, rather than the dictates of floral aesthetics. "I got these fer yeh."
She tried to smile at him, but the effort made her cheeks ache. "Thank you," she said, faintly. She saw him turn red with pleasure, the crimson in his cheeks matching the crimson of the roses he held.
...she remembers the first time she saw that look of shy surprise, when as a prefect she rescued him from his torturers and secured his everlasting respect. Even now, she can always count on at least one birthday and Christmas present, lovingly put together but clumsily wrapped..
"Ah, you've brought the Professor flowers!" cooed a bright voice behind Hagrid, and Minerva winced as the young Healer snatched the flowers out of Hagrid's hands and conjured a vase with brisk efficiency. The Healer meant well, Minerva knew, but at that moment she hated the girl who'd caused the flush in Hagrid's cheeks to turn from pleasure to embarrassment.
"I shouldn'ta done that," Hagrid mumbled. "I shoulda gotten sommat to put 'em in. I've dripped all over yeh, Perfessor."
"No matter, Hagrid," she said. She wished her voice was stronger. "It's only a drop and the flowers are beautiful. Thank you, my friend."
He looked down. "I had ta do sommat for yeh, Perfessor," he said. "It's my fault yeh're laid up here an' all. You shouldn't'a done that, yeh know. I'm a half-giant. They couldn't 'ave 'urt me."
"I couldn't let them take you away, Hagrid. Not like that." She struggled to sit up, to see him better, but her strength failed her. He saw it and helped her, supporting her fragile body with surprisingly gentle hands.
...he'd always been so gentle, even as a child. From the start the animals had loved him, and even students who tormented him at other times came to him with their ailing cats and owls and rats, knowing he would help...
"Professor!" It was the young healer again, and she sounded scandalised as she turned on Hagrid. "What are you thinking of, moving her like that? Professor McGonagall is a-"
"It's all right, Healer," Minerva put in, summoning the best glare she could manage, under the circumstances. Half sitting up, with her glasses perched (rather precariously, it must be admitted) on her nose, she felt more herself, and was mildly amused when the young woman retreated rapidly.
Hagrid looked worried. "Shouldn't I have done that?"
"I wanted you to," she told him reassuringly.
He beamed at her. "How long are yeh gonna be 'ere?" he asked.
She allowed her eyelids to drop over her eyes for a moment. "Until I'm strong enough to walk again under my own steam. Poppy won't let me back until then."
He nodded wisely. "Yeah, Poppy said. I wanted ter be sure 'fore I showed yeh this." He reached into his cloak and produced a walking stick, obviously hand carved. The hand-hold at the top was in the shape of a cat's head with carefully delineated spectacle markings around its eyes.
Minerva blinked away sudden tears. "Oh, Hagrid. It's beautiful."
His face lit up with delight at her response.
...he did not have a malicious bone in his body. How anyone could have suspected him of opening the Chamber of Secrets she did not know... even fifty years ago she had found it hard to believe...
"Now maybe they'll let yeh home sooner," he said happily.
"I hope so," she responded fervently. She wanted, needed to get back to Hogwarts. Merlin only knew what was happening in her absense, with that woman reigning supreme. Lying here made her feel weak and useless and old and foolish and all manner of things.
..she remembers that she did not even pause to think, to consider, to call for help when she heard the commotion and realised its cause. All her old Auror-instincts and training came to the fore and she rushed to Hagrid's defence. Never would she have believed that fellow-Aurors would fire on her, taking her down in a blaze of red and searing pain...
He patted her hand. "Jus' you get better, Perfessor. Me an' Dumbledore are watchin' over the kids. From a distance, like." He grinned, much to her surprise. "Madam Umbridge is findin' it harder than she thought. Fred an' George are doin' great business wiv their Skivin' Snackboxes an' other things. The other teachers are doing nothin' to help her, even Snape."
She sighed in mingled relief and exasperation at the thought of the irrepressible Weasley twins. Perhaps the students would be all right after all.
She was getting stronger every day, even if it didn't feel that way. She was tired again now, tired enough to lapse into dreamless sleep without a potion. She felt her eyelids grow heavy, and heard his voice telling her good-bye as she began to drift.
She was in that no-man's land between sleep and waking when a thought intruded. Hagrid had smiled and patted her hand and told her of Fred and George's latest. Why was it that she had not noticed that his smile did not reach his eyes or that he'd carefully refrained from telling her anything of importance, and she hadn't even asked.
She repressed the sudden fear that she knew would make her breathless in her current state, and shut her eyes more tightly, willing sleep to come. She needed to rest. She needed to get better, quickly.
...Hogwarts needs you, Minerva...
-end.
