The Tabby Cat and her Bumblebee.
I adore Harry Potter and every word J. K. Rowling has written, but in my heart I will always believe that McGonagall and Dumbledore belong together. So this is my version of their story. (It's a bit depressing to start with, but I promise it gets better – I hope!) Mostly McGonagall/Dumbledore-centric, with a few others thrown in as well. I'll mostly stay true to the books with a few of my own embellishments. Having read the Harry Potter Wiki, I have set Minerva 10 years older than she is, leaving Hogwarts in 1944, rather than 1954. Naturally everything belongs to J. K. Rowling and WarnerBros.
After the final battle.
Minerva collapsed down into the high backed carved wooden chair at her desk, the same desk and chair that had been occupied by her predecessors – every headmaster and mistress of Hogwarts since 1611. Her mind was swimming and swirling with the events of today entwined with memories from much further back in time. She looked up at the portraits on the wall, her gaze landed on one sleeping image in particular, Albus Dumbledore. He was her friend, chess companion, lover, and husband. He had died to protect her, to protect all of the wizarding and muggle worlds alike, but now in the end, when the war was won she still didn't understand why he had had to die. She understood the prophecy; she knew Harry had to have been the one to finally kill Voldermort, but not why Albus had needed to sacrifice himself. Of course she knew that he wouldn't have done it if he hadn't needed to. If there had been another choice, another way out, he would have taken it. It was part of his greater plan she had known, but it didn't stop the agonising ache deep in her soul every time she considered living the rest of her life without him.
Each night her dreams were filled with images of him; memories of their life together and fantasies of what could have been. Each morning she woke to the realisation that they were just that: dreams, memories and fantasies. That was all she could ever have now. Her heart and soul shattered each day with the realisation. This was more painful to her than any of the physical pain that scarred her skin and the unforgivable curses that still echoed through her memories. This pain tore at her very soul, and she did not know of a cure. She wanted to remember, she wanted to relive those treasured memories of the man she loved; but the same memories that she knew would comfort her haunted her just the same. The memories were finite now, there would be no more than she already had.
At first, she had tried to convince herself it was not real. That Albus had found some way to deceive everyone in order for Voldermort to focus on Harry and allow Harry to defeat him. She had fully expected Albus to return to the Order in secret, or at least return to her, and return fully when they needed him. But as the days and months had past, the hope was beginning to fade. Tomorrow would be a year since her beloved had fallen from the Astronomy Tower to his death, and Minerva had to concede that he would not return. She had seen his body, felt for a pulse where there was none, listened for a breath that did not come and kissed lips that did not kiss back. He wasn't there.
Large, warm tears were tumbling down her cheeks, dripping off her chin and smudging the ink on the lesson plans on the desk in front of her. Her eyes were red and swollen; her shoulders shook with the force of her silent sobs. She wrapped her arms around herself in a vain attempt to ease the pain, but it did not.
The events of today had been hard on all of them. She had watched her brave Gryffindor cubs stand and fight against the darkest magic their generation had known, and win. Immense pride had swelled inside her as she had stood by them. Even her beloved castle had played its part in defending them. Of course others had fallen; most of the original Order had gone now. Her heart sank lower at the thought of all of them. How many times had she scalded Fred and George Weasley for some prank or other? Teddy Lupin would grow up without his parents. And only in death had they all understood Severus Snape and the lengths he went for the woman he loved. Minerva had taught almost all of those that had fought, for and against them. She could remember the fresh young faces that had greeted her on the stairs each September. She could not truly have imagined what they would become.
Shy, frightened Neville had shown his true Gryffindor colours, driving Godric Gryffindors' sword through the Voldermorts' final horcrux, allowing Harry to finally defeat him. Pride had warmed Minerva's heart at the sight of Neville, standing in a hand-knitted cardigan that had been made by his grandmother and previously warn by his father killing Nagini.
Quiet, innocent Molly Prewitt had defended her only daughter against the madness of the murderess Bellatrix Lestrange. The death eaters had taken so much from Molly; her father, two brothers and one son. Twenty-eight years previously, Minerva had sat on the stone steps of the entrance hall one evening, holding the woman. Only then, her biggest problem was a red haired Gryffindor who seemed to have more interest in Muggle contraptions than her. Minerva secretly wondered if this still wasn't the second biggest cause of disharmony in the Weasley household. The biggest had undoubtedly been Fred and George. A sharp pain hit Minerva's heart at the thought. Fred. Infuriating, irritating, exasperating, Fred. She had no idea how the Weasley's would cope without him. She was sure he had driven Molly to insanity as he had done her at times, but Minerva knew how much she loved her children and loosing Fred would take an enormous toll on the woman. Her mind wandered to a small window on the third floor, under which sat a small swamp. It would no doubt remain a permanent memorial to him now and for that Minerva was grateful.
She remembered the day Albus had found the swamp. It had been a few days after his return to Hogwarts after the dramatic events at the Ministry of Magic which had forced Cornelius Fudge to finally admit that Voldermort had returned to power. The students had left for the summer and the castle had been blissfully silent. They had walked arm in arm through the corridors down to dinner. They had paused at the side of the rope around the boggy obstacle.
'There appears to be a swamp in the corridor, dear.' He observed in a manner of someone commenting on something perfectly ordinary like the weather.
'Yes.' Minerva confirmed matter of factly. 'It was considerably larger but Filius and I decided we couldn't leave the whole corridor unusable and sadly Argus was entirely dissatisfied with the idea of shuttling the students across it in a small boat, so here we are.'
'Indeed. But why is it here at all?' Albus asked.
'Of all the students we have ever had through these halls who do you think would consider it entertaining to convert a corridor into a swamp?' She retorted.
'Ah.' Realisation dawned and Albus' eyes sparkled.
'The Weasley twins felt it would suitably infuriate Delores.'
'And did it?' He prompted.
'Indeed.' She said a hint of satisfaction in her voice. 'Although, Filius and I both refused to do deal with it citing several of her blasted educational decrees which didn't allow us the authority to do anything about it, nor to punish the twins.' Albus laughed. 'So, we thought we'd keep this bit as a tribute to them.'
'Very fitting.' He stated, slipping his arm around his deputy's waist and pulling her round to face him. The smile slid from his face as he became serious for a moment. 'I'm sorry for this year, Tabby. I know she was hard on you. I couldn't see any other way of keeping them from expelling Harry and' Minerva put a finger to his lips to stop him.
'You did the right thing, Albus. I did miss you and there were times when I was so upset and angry at you for leaving, but you did the right thing. We made it through and the toad is gone. I also think the Ministry has learned not to interfere again.' They both grinned. Minerva tilted her head up to his and pressed a kiss on his soft lips. 'I really missed you.' She whispered their lips only millimetres apart. Albus brushed his crooked nose against hers.
'I'm here now.' He replied, before kissing her again.