The Sacred Gift

Those children came back again... She smirked faintly at the thought of referring to them as children now. They were no longer children... She knew that. It hurt to know that.

They lived, they breathed that school. They lived among it. Yet, never within it. She knew they had lives. Adults had lives. Children did not. What madness was this, in this day and age, knowing that these people would stand to face what could not be faced? It hurt knowing that the final goodbye would not carry a meaning. She remembered that she remembered her Transfiguration professor most fondly upon the shores of departure, yet, the affection from her students did not run so deeply, so powerfully. Her goodbye would be among the millions in the crowd; to what worth was her own wish for their survival?

She approached the encroaching crowd, feeling every particle in her heart ache for their safety. They were hers. The children, her students, were hers. She read their names upon the attendance rolls; she read and corrected the very words they penned. They were her own. They belonged to her. She looked to their eyes, and gone was that youthful radiance, that innocence that all young children carried without knowledge. It seemed that as soon as one realized one's age, it disappeared, never to be worn again. They knew of their maturity. How she wished they didn't.

The Boy Who Lived noticed her gaze first. It was a double-take glance, and though she smirked within herself, she kept her gaze steady and unwavering. A hush fell over that great crowd as they noticed as a whole, her presence. As if sensing her desire, the sea of people parted and gathered about in smaller, select groups to please her. She almost smiled. The children did know her more than she liked to admit…

Roonil Wazlib followed suit. How she nearly smiled as the name rolled off Severus's tongue in her head. It was not until Hermione looked up that she approached the golden trio.

Her strides were purposeful; as was her intention. She approached Harry first, and surprised the both of them by embracing him as a mother would her son. "He saw a lot of good in you," she whispered delicately into his ear, knowing that they were now the center of attention -for the stern professor appeared to have no emotions at all normally-. "He was so certain that you will one day defeat the Dark Lord… He loves you," she paused and then added in an even softer voice, "as do I…"

She withdrew, ignoring the tears welling up in her eyes and turned to the flaming-red haired boy. He also received a hug, awkward though it was -he was getting taller than her-. "Keep them safe. I only ask this because I know you contain the abilities to do so," she whispered. "Use your heart first, Ronald… It speaks more wisdom than your head."

She retracted her embrace and was pleased to see the all-knowing nod of Mister Weasley's head. She could not keep from smiling then… Apparently, Hermione had told him the same thing. She turned to that girl, that half-woman and nearly smirked at the wetness that stained her cheeks. Hermione's emotions were never wrought with her mind, despite her great intuitiveness and knowledge. She could hear his words coming back to her that expressing emotion was a beautiful thing…

She gripped her, and Hermione reciprocated. The professor could feel her shoulder sprinkling with moisture from the countless tears she shed. She embraced Hermione the longest. "You are beautiful in all ways one can be… Do not ever doubt that. Keep your chin up and your mind focused upon what matters the most… You need to keep those boys in line, after all," she whispered, pleased to feel that Hermione found the last comment funny.

She let go at last and found all three of them wiping tears. Curiously, the crowd of people had dissipated, leaving only the quartet in the grand entrance hall. "You three are the hope of both worlds." She touched each of their wand hands with her own briefly before continuing. "When you have failed something, take comfort in the fact that I cannot do anything about it." The trio exchanged grins before she elaborated more quietly, "I have had hundreds, perhaps thousands of students in my classroom. Only a handful of them I have come to know beyond acquaintance. However, you three never made it past acquaintance in any sort of book of mine… I now see why. You were thrust into the grown-up world much more quickly then the rest of your year; an advantage, you may say, for you are growing up now rather than later. A disadvantage, I disagree, for if you are grown up, you are no longer my students… My children…"

The trio came to her as with one mind. They all hugged her as she silently wept for their safety, for their success, for their lives. "I love each of you…" she whispered, as if afraid the words aloud would spoil in the atmosphere. "I love all of my students, but you three feel like my children… I would go myself. I would take your place. I would switch places with you, but I have more children to rear, to teach, to learn from…" They all let go and smiled at her. Expressing emotion was something she could not bear for long while wearing the stern, schoolmistress façade. Professor McGonagall turned without another word to leave the three to their journey alone… What surprised her was that Harry called her back.

"Professor McGonagall?" he asked. She whirled around, sensing the other children in the castle nearing the Entrance Hall as she did so.

"Yes, Potter?"

He grinned at the sudden formality. "Thank you… Your words mean," he looked back to the pair he had left behind in his pursuit. Hermione nodded vigorously to him while Ron shook his head heatedly. Harry smiled before turning back to his professor. "…more than I can say."

"Words are words, Mr. Potter… What matters is how you say them," she said, noting the small smile tugging at the edge of the boy's lips. "You are welcome. I do expect you to return someday, do I make myself clear?"

The final addition was added just as the Entrance Hall swarmed with life again. Harry nodded solemnly to her request. "Yes, Professor," he answered dutifully, sidestepping his tone of voice by the gleam in his eye and the smirk on his lips. He turned and joined his friends before life fully swept around them. Professor McGonagall watched as they made their way out into the sunlight, feeling at last as though her life was mended and forever complete.

"Complete, you say?"

She smiled softly at the voice in her head. "Yes, Albus, complete… They know," she thought back.

All of the children left the great castle some ten minutes later, and as soon as she knew in her heart that none of them lingered on the grounds, she made her way out to capture some sunlight with her words…

The eager wind greeted her warmly, and blew her hair with swift delight. Her skirts tugged at the hems as she said to the great rushing gale, "They know."