Protector

Minerva stared at the letters from her now former students. Her hand shook slightly as she studied them – they were carefully worded to give away no real detail. All she could glean was that the three of them were going on some kind of mission to end Voldemort, and that they'd be on the run.

Merlin knew how they were going to do it. There were too many variables and too many blank spaces that needed filling in – only she couldn't fill in the details. She didn't dare write to any of them, knowing that the Dursley residence was no doubt being watched. Hermione lived in a Muggle area, and too many owls could become conspicuous. As for Ron, she was quite sure his family was preparing for the first wedding and, as such, didn't need to be worrying about reassuring her.

She really couldn't do anything. They were either seventeen or nearly seventeen, and she didn't think the Muggles would care if Harry Potter didn't return to school.

Communicating with him would probably break five laws and send her to Azkaban anyway, under the new Ministry.

Hot tears stung her eyes, an increasingly familiar sensation over the past two years.

I was one of the first there when there was the incident with the troll. I was always at Quidditch matches, watching and protecting as much as being a spectator. I did what I could.

As she thought, the doubt and memories of other events crept into her mind.

Maybe I didn't do as much. I didn't believe them about the Stone. I wasn't there in third year when they confronted Sirius Black. I wasn't able to help when they broke into the Department of Mysteries.

The first tear spilled over, followed by a second.

I've not been able to protect my students as much as I should have. When Harry was attacked by Dementors, Arabella was the one to go to his aid and tell him what to do. I wasn't there, and I could've driven off a couple of Dementors.

And now they're off on some top-secret mission and they don't have the help or guardians they need. Will they even have a roof over their heads?

I can't protect them any more. This might be their fight- hell, one could say it's Harry's fight. I wish I could do more though.

The cup slid from her fingers, shattering on the stone. The sound served to jolt her out of her thoughts and she sighed, flicking her wand to clean it up and mend the porcelain.

All I can do now is protect the remaining students.