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by sevyMMAD

Ok, so first of all: hello everyone and thanks for having decided to give this story a chance! ;) It's been ages since I last published a story, so I hope I've become a better writer in the meantime. However, I'm still not a native speaker/writer, so please forgive any mistakes. If you were kind enough to point them out to me, I would be very grateful! I leave you to your reading. Thank you! :D

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters mentioned, I'm just having a bit of fun with them! This disclaimer applies to the whole story.

Minerva McGonagall was sitting behind the desk in Dumbledore's office... no, of hers, damn it! Why couldn't she remember it? More than a year had passed since his death, after all!

School had already finished some months before, September was approaching. In order not to think, Minerva hadn't but worked all the time the whole summer, which had brought about the rather unpleasant fact that now, a few days before school begin, she had nothing to do. She took a Transfiguration book from one of the many shelves in the room. She still loved that subject, although she now was Headmistress. Thinking about Transfiguration, however, made her think about a problem which she was sure was only the first of many she would have to face as a result of her being utterly unable to be Headmistress. In fact, that year she hadn't managed to find anyone suitable to take her place as a teacher, so she had decided to continue that job alongside hers, for the time being. She then had, in hope of gaining an effective help, appointed Filius Flitwick as Deputy.

Putting the book down on her desk, she took her head in her hands.

If only Albus hadn't died, she wouldn't have those problems; he would be Headmaster and she, his loyal Deputy and Transfiguration Professor, as it should have been! If, if, if… enough with those ifs!

As she now did as a habit, she dared glancing at Dumbledore's portrait. He was exactly as he had been since the evening he had died. He slept peacefully, and he hadn't woken up once since his painting had appeared in the office, and not for lack of trying. Frustrated, Minerva took one of the many trinkets which still remained in the office and threw it towards the wall in front of her, relishing in the noise it made as it shattered. To hell with her composure!

Rising her eyes, she saw Poppy Pomfrey standing with a shocked face in front of the door which had just opened. Why on earth did she have to come in in that precise moment?

"I'd prefer if you knocked next time", she said in a detached, yet not unkind, manner, trying to accompany the sentence with a half-smile (but not succeeding entirely). After all she was one of her best friends.

"Minerva…" began the nurse. Minerva had in the meantime regained her composure, going back to being the strict and precise Professor McGonagall.

"Minerva, what's the matter with you? And don't you dare tell me it's nothing because I know you better than that! I've never seen you throwing things or giving in to your frustrations since… well, ever, so you'd better tell me straight away what's wrong with you!" she said in a stern tone, her hands on her hips.

The Deputy – no, Headmistress – didn't allow her composure to falter, although she secretly wished she could just shout that yes, there was something wrom with her, and that she was blind for not having understood what it was. Of course, no word passed her lips.

"Don't be daft, Poppy. Nothing is wrong with me, you worry too much. Look, I really appreciate your dedication to your job, but not everyone is ill, you know?" She countered with a scathing look. However, a fleeting look – which probably would have been missed by anyone else – towards Dumbledore's portrait belied her.

Madam Pomfrey's expression softened a bit, but showed clearly how she failed to understand.

"Minerva,we have all lost a friend, but we have all managed to go on.. what has happened to our strong, brave, fearless and stern Minerva McGonagall? I sometimes barely recognise you. We're all worried for you, dear. Especially Rolanda and Pomona."

While the matron was speaking, the Transfiguration Professor couldn't help paling.

A friend... of course, yes. Just a friend.

Hot tears threatened to spill, but Minerva managed to keep them under control. Instead, she settled for asking, in a slightly faltering voice:

"Rolanda and Pomona... are they already here?"

"We're all here," replied Poppy Pomfrey.

Professor McGonagall raised her eyebrow.

"Why? Term isn't due to start for a while, yet. I thought you wanted to stay at home."

Poppy shrugged.

"We wanted to meet up and spend some time in company, now that Voldemort is dead and nothing stands in the way of celebrating with friends. I could ask you the same thing, anyway. What are you doing already here?"

"I always stay here during the summer, Poppy."declared Minerva as if it were obvious.

"Not alone," objected Madam Pomfrey.

"No, not alone" agreed Minerva, without being able to add anything else. "Not alone," she repeated, sighing.

Please leave me a little review, if you can spare the time! ;)