Disclaimer: I own nothing in this fic, because I am not (as much as I can
pretend to be) the glorious J.K. Rowling. Everything in this story is copy
right to her and WB and etc. Any copy right infringement was not intended,
etc. etc. The lyrics to the song "Hurt" are (I suppose) copyright to Nine
Inch Nails and were later fabulously redone by none other than Johnny Cash.
Yay. (the lyrics are only used in the last chapter - might I add)
Author's Notes: Credits for this story are to; a fic I can't find any more, the Harry Potter lexicon and my bathtub. (Sitting in a bathtub with a laptop is where this fic was written, if you're curious) Ah yes, this story is set the summer before Harry's 6th year, although that's not entirely that important.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
It was the same every year, the cleaning process, I mean.
McGonagall had had the same office since the day she become a teacher at Hogwarts, and it showed. The room was piled with homework assignments and book, a large oak desk sat neatly in a corner with a small circle of stuffy red and gold chairs and finally across one wall was a large display of certificates, awards and a large Gryffindor lion was displayed on the same wall.
She was doing her yearly cleaning, and this year especially it was needed. The term was to start in a few weeks, and she still had many of the assignments of last year and a few things she'd never need again.
She started off with the obvious; the piles of assignments from students, apologies for inexcusable behaviour and of course, the inevitable letters from parents. McGonagall sifted threw these with ease; sure, there were many of them. But they went into two categories: Important and Garbage. One of her biggest rules when sorting through the past years debris was not to keep much. In her first years, she hadn't and then three years into this job, she'd discovered all of her filings full of age-old papers and things that no long mattered in the least. So she'd tossed them all, and started with this new principal.
Done with that, she emptied her trash was a flick of her wand. Next was the harder one. She turned to the large shelving unit, which held books that students she had needed - or were of some interest and/or use to her at Hogwarts. On the top shelves were the oldest, that had been useful to her in years gone by. She glanced threw the titles and pulled one she couldn't remember what it was about. She let it fall open, and something fell onto the floor, face down.
She lifted it, and placed it onto her desk, and stared at it. On the back there was a messy scrawl - certainly not her own neat crisp writing.
Minerva,
Our last two years have been good. I'll miss you, a lot. Hope to see you soon, I guess.
Love,
Evan
She collapsed into her chair, her fingers shaking uncontrollably as she stared at the writing. She was much to scared to flip it over - she was almost positive what sight would greet her if she did.
She bit her lip and flipped the picture over and let it land on her desk.
Author's Notes: Credits for this story are to; a fic I can't find any more, the Harry Potter lexicon and my bathtub. (Sitting in a bathtub with a laptop is where this fic was written, if you're curious) Ah yes, this story is set the summer before Harry's 6th year, although that's not entirely that important.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
It was the same every year, the cleaning process, I mean.
McGonagall had had the same office since the day she become a teacher at Hogwarts, and it showed. The room was piled with homework assignments and book, a large oak desk sat neatly in a corner with a small circle of stuffy red and gold chairs and finally across one wall was a large display of certificates, awards and a large Gryffindor lion was displayed on the same wall.
She was doing her yearly cleaning, and this year especially it was needed. The term was to start in a few weeks, and she still had many of the assignments of last year and a few things she'd never need again.
She started off with the obvious; the piles of assignments from students, apologies for inexcusable behaviour and of course, the inevitable letters from parents. McGonagall sifted threw these with ease; sure, there were many of them. But they went into two categories: Important and Garbage. One of her biggest rules when sorting through the past years debris was not to keep much. In her first years, she hadn't and then three years into this job, she'd discovered all of her filings full of age-old papers and things that no long mattered in the least. So she'd tossed them all, and started with this new principal.
Done with that, she emptied her trash was a flick of her wand. Next was the harder one. She turned to the large shelving unit, which held books that students she had needed - or were of some interest and/or use to her at Hogwarts. On the top shelves were the oldest, that had been useful to her in years gone by. She glanced threw the titles and pulled one she couldn't remember what it was about. She let it fall open, and something fell onto the floor, face down.
She lifted it, and placed it onto her desk, and stared at it. On the back there was a messy scrawl - certainly not her own neat crisp writing.
Minerva,
Our last two years have been good. I'll miss you, a lot. Hope to see you soon, I guess.
Love,
Evan
She collapsed into her chair, her fingers shaking uncontrollably as she stared at the writing. She was much to scared to flip it over - she was almost positive what sight would greet her if she did.
She bit her lip and flipped the picture over and let it land on her desk.