A/N: I got the inspiration for this story while watching a Criminal Minds episode and eating lots of salsa and chips so bear with me. Please enjoy and be careful where you step because some parts can get fluffy.
Reminder: This is my baby story… my first piece to put out there. So be gentle, support the head and don't drop it. - WickedWitch1313
*****************************************************************************************************************Minerva McGonagall sat at her table playing with her dinner. Around her, the Great Hall was filled with the happy chatter of the battle's carefree survivors. They basked in their newfound freedom from the fear that had plagued their lives during Voldemort's reign. She felt like a puppet; nodding, smiling, and grieving on cue to the comments of the colleagues' voiced opinions.
The outer shell of her body betrayed none of the agony she was experiencing. Inside, she was screaming. She wished for nothing more than the opportunity to find a quiet corner of her room curl up in the fetal position and cry.
Unfortunately due to her own pride and the conversation Professors Flitwick and Hagrid were conducting that partially included her, the opportunity had not yet presented itself. The only person she really wanted to talk with was dead. That one man whom she loved. That brave, foolish, stupid man.
Twirling her fork through an untouched slice of kidney pie, she reminisced on memories from their life together: the day they met, the first day he came to work at Hogwarts, their first touch, that first spark of attraction that neither wished to admit to, and that day. That final day they'd decided to overcome their irrational fears and became a couple and the love that ensued.
The memories were seared into her mind, fresh as yesterday's happenings. The pain she felt pierced her heart like a red-hot dagger. The wounds may have been cauterized by the war and the dull, numbing ache of its loss, love and tragedies may slightly overshadow her current heartaches but she hadn't lost it yet. As painful as those memories and thoughts may be, as horrifying the truth was, she refused to break down. She wouldn't hide in that desolate corner and cry. She could only sit and stare out across the heads of people at the surrounding tables celebrating and grieving in their own ways and see none of it.
A/N 2: This was the first chapter, I hope you all like it. Please leave me your comments so I can improve things.