Title: It's a melancholy feeling
Author: Tartan Lioness
Summary: Someone says goodbye. Canon DH.
AN: Okay, another short oneshot from me... yeah, I'm still alive...
Professor Longbottom entered the circular office with an air of worry about him. Ten years into his career as Herbology Professor at Hogwarts, he no longer felt intimidated by his old professors; not even by Headmistress McGonagall, who was once his Transfigurations professor. Headmistress McGonagall had taken over as Head of Hogwarts after Severus Snape's death sixteen years ago. The first thing she had done as Headmistress was to bury Snape on the Hogwarts grounds; the only place he'd felt at home. He had been cleared of all charges and had been celebrated as a hero. A post-mortem Order of Merlin had been bestowed upon him for his service during the two wars.
Neville Longbottom cleared his head of his once hated professor and knocked on the door to the private part of the headmistress' quarters.
"Come in," called a voice. Professor Longbottom sighed sadly; Headmistress McGonagall was not her usual formidable self lately. She had changed after the war, he realised, but not as much as she had lately. Her hair had gone grey since the last battle and her eyes seemed duller.
He stepped into McGonagall's living room, finding her lying on the sofa. He smiled and greeted her.
"Please, Professor Longbottom, have a seat," she offered and he sat down on the char closest to her. She stretched out her hand.
"Neville," she said. "I've watched you grow. I saw you struggle during classes and I heard the enthusiasm in your voice when you spoke of plants. I saw the changes in you during your sixth year here, changes that perhaps originated in Dumbledore's Army." Her dull eyes seemed impossibly duller at the mention of Dumbledore's Army and Professor Longbottom knew that she must miss her old friend something fierce. "I was so proud of you," she continued. "And you fought so bravely in the battle. And now, you've become a highly esteemed colleague of mine and I'm even more proud of you. I called you here because I've made it my duty to say goodbye to all my colleagues. Yes, Neville, 'goodbye'. I'm unwell and I do not believe I will survive much longer."
"But Professor McGonagall, I…" He didn't know what to say. She looked so frail, lying in the sofa with a purple tartan plaid over her. She was so thin, so pale and looked so ill. But her eyes, at the mention of her dying, seemed to glitter… no, it couldn't be, he decided. He was imagining things.
"It's a melancholy feeling, Neville, to be separated from those you love. One loses the will to live. I've got the school back on its feet and kept it going. I have done my duty. I've done what he requested of me. I will do no more. Now is my time to join him."
Neville left the quarters many hours later with dried tear marks on his cheeks. Even in the middle of the night, he called for his colleagues. No one slept for the rest of the night; instead, they mourned the loss of a kind headmistress, a loyal and – perhaps more importantly – beloved friend.
THE END.
AN: well, this could be either ADMM or SSMM… I wrote it intended for ADMM but whatever floats your boat.