Minerva sighed quietly to herself. Summer holidays were serene and quiet, but surprisingly boring. Today she found herself tidying up her desk, which was stacked with paperwork, letters, and who knew what else. Sometimes being Headmistress was irritating.
She picked something up of the floor, recognizing it as her photo album. She smiled faintly, remembering all her dear friends. She flipped open the album, and stared at the first picture. It was of the original Order of the Phoenix. Her eyes flicked from face to face, deep in thought as the people in the picture smiled and waved to her.
When she saw dear Lily and James Potters' face, she felt a little stab of pain in her heart. Minerva had no children of her own, but each student she taught was like a child to her, and she cared about them as if they were. She quietly pondered; did they ever think or suspect that Harry's life would be the life of an orphan? That he'd be alone and friendless until he met Hagrid and came to Hogwarts? That Harry would be one of Voldemort's Horcruxes? That he'd single-handedly defeated Voldemort? Did they ever suspect that Harry would grow up to become the Harry that he is today, as the Head of the Auror Department (which was at it's best in decades), married to Ginny Weasley, and father of three children?
She looked on, to see Frank and Alice Longbottom's happy, smiling face look up at her, so unlike the blank, unseeing expressions that they wore today. They, like the Potters, had had a son, a young, growing son. They'd had a future too. But not since Bellatrix tortured them to insanity. Would they be proud, Minerva wondered, of Neville if they knew of what he'd done? That he went from one of the worst students to a leader among students when Voldemort took over to the Herbology Professor for Hogwarts? Yes, she thought fondly, yes they would be proud.
Then, the other three Marauders' faces caught her eye. Back then, when they were roaming the halls, would she ever have guessed their fates? That James would be murdered in cold blood by Voldemort, only so Voldemort could attempt to kill Harry? That Sirius would be wrongly imprisoned for thirteen years in Azkaban, but escape, only to be murdered by his cousin, Bellatrix? That small, cowardly Peter would betray to Order and his friends to Voldemort? That Remus would marry Nymphodora Tonks and have a son, just before being killed during the Battle of Hogwarts? No. She would never have guessed. Never.
She moved on, seeing one of her closest friends, Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody. Harry had explained the day after he'd defeated Voldemort of what she'd missed—of Voldemort's Horcruxes, their search, and so much more, including of what he'd discovered on a trip into the Ministry of Magic: Alastor Moody's false eye. She'd been shocked before then, when she learned of Moody's death. He'd always been a survivor—one of the toughest people she knew, who always survived. Always, except that one faithful night over Little Whinging. Whenever she'd imagined the end of the war back then, she'd always seen Moody, Lupin, Tonks…Dumbledore as survivors. She'd never expected to survive—she had always been too protective to allow someone to die right in front of her eyes.
Then she saw someone she'd hated, until after he'd died, only later getting an explanation. Severus Snape. He'd been Minerva's least favorite colleague she'd ever had. After he'd murdered Albus, she'd had to physically restrain herself from hunting him down so she could seek revenge for her dear friend. Only after she'd heard of his true loyalty did she feel remorse. She'd never liked him. Never. Only immediately after Albus was dead did she truly hate him. Now, she only saw a misfortunate, brave man who sacrificed everything for nothing.
Albus…The name still struck a painful blow to her heart. Everyday, she missed Albus more and more. He had been her best friend. She glanced up at the portrait behind her desk—the one of Albus. He was watching her, smiling sadly to her, knowing the cause of the lamenting expression on her face.
Minerva sighed sadly, "Oh, Albus…they did not deserve to die…not one of them…"
She flipped the page, looking to the next photo. It was the Second Order of the Phoenix—the survivors, at least, as well as those who'd been helpful allies. It had been taken a few days after Voldemort's defeat.
In the center of the photo, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were smiling up at her. Harry had an arm around Ginny, and Ron had an arm around Hermione. Minerva smiled. Those four were among her favorite Gryffindors that she'd ever taught. Ron and Hermione had always argued when they were younger…but they worked it out later. She'd been very happy for both couples when they'd been married. They had two young children now. Harry and Ginny had three.
Luna Lovegood and Neville Longbottom were in the photo, Luna wearing her unique purple turnip earrings. Neville looking like he wasn't sure he was supposed to be there, but happy to be.
Arthur and Molly were in the photo as well. She felt another prick of sadness for them. They'd lost Fred and very nearly Bill. They'd also thought they'd lost Harry. Dear, sweet Molly always included Harry and Hermione as family, and now they really were. She smiled at the thought of Molly's kindness.
The other Weasleys children were in the picture—Charlie, George, Percy, Bill, and even Fleur.
Kingsley Shacklebolt—now Minister of Magic—was there too, smiling. Minerva honestly wasn't surprised that he'd been elected Minister of Magic.
Others were there too…Dedalus Diggle, Elphias Doge, Arabella Figg, Sturgis Podmore, and Hestia Jones. In the background, Hagrid stood with Fang, his bloodhound.
In the corner, there she was, with her colleagues—Filius Flitwick, Pomona Sprout, and Horace Slughorn. Horace had decided to stay at Hogwarts as the Potions Master. Her three friends and she were still at Hogwarts. Although Pomona had decided to retire after the next year. Minerva offhandedly wondered if Neville Longbottom would apply for the job. He'd be a good candidate for the job….
Again she turned the page, smiling at the photo. The caption below read 'Dumbledore's Army'. Of all of them, most had survived, excluding Collin Creevey and a few others. They had all been so brave that year…all because of that toad Umbridge…Minerva frowned at the thought of the vile toad, but was happy that she'd ended up with a life sentence in a high-security Azkaban cell. She deserved it. How many lived did she nearly destroy during the Second Wizarding War?
The next pages were a collection of many photos. Dobby the House-Elf … Ted Tonks … Nymphodora Tonks-Lupin….Remus Lupin…Marlene McKinnon…
The casualties. Her friends. Her students.
So many dead. So many lives had been taken just to get rid of that horrid, heinous man. No. He wasn't even human. Even as her fellow classmate, Tom Riddle was evil.
The saying, "The acts of a few heinous men do not define a group" came to mind when she thought of the Death Eaters.
A few—very, very few—had defected from Voldemort. The Malfoys. Snape. If not for those four…Minerva shivered. If it hadn't been for them, everyone in the photo album and so many more would have died. If not for Draco Malfoy's hesitation of confirming Harry's identity during the Battle of Malfoy Manor…If not for Snape's well-planned espionage…If not for Narcissa Malfoy's lie about Harry's 'death'…
All would have been lost if not for them laying their lives down on the line.
Sighing sadly, Minerva closed the album, putting it in its correct place on the shelf.
She murmured to herself, "None of them deserved to die."
Above her, on the wall, Dumbledore's portrait consolingly replied, "No, but they are happy now."
"How are you so sure, Albus?" she asked.
He only grinned slyly. "What can I say, Minerva…We dead know each other."
She wryly muttered, "Silly, crazy old man…"
And despite herself, she smiled, hoping Dumbledore's words were true. All in the album were heroes.
An old Muggle saying came to her mind… 'Many die for their beliefs, and it is quite common. But true courage is living and suffering for your beliefs.'
Either way, Minerva knew all of them possessed great courage, from Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, to Snape, to Mad-Eye, and all of them…each played their own special, important roles in the wars. And without them, they would have lost the war.
She brushed away the tears in her eyes and looked to Dumbledore's portrait and told him, "I hope you're right Albus. All of them should be happy."
He chuckled. "Believe me, Minerva. They are, they are."
And somehow, she believed him.
