Author's note: I do not own Harry Potter or its characters. Please don't sue me. At least, unless you want my student loans. This is set in the year 2051.
Nostalgia and Déjà Vu
This was her last year at Hogwarts. Minerva McGonagall had said it before, but this time it was true. She was too old to be keep doing this. Too old and tired. She has seen much in her time. The rise and fall of Voldemort, multiple times. The death of students and friends. Unlikely romances. Students who grew up. Students who didn't. Betrayal. Injustice. War.
She envied Harry his hermitage. Most of the time anymore she just wanted to be left alone and away from reminders of what she's lost. The woman sighed and stirred her tea. She knew the cause of her deep melancholy tonight. It had been that incident today in class.
Transfiguration with first year Gryffindors. She had looked around the room to find two heads bent over a piece of paper oblivious to the lesson. Spying the sandy brown hair mixed with raven, her response had been automatic. "Mr. Black, Mr. Lupin, it would behoove you to pay attention in class."
Two pairs of startled eyes met hers, and the professor felt the color drain from her face. For those grey and amber eyes did not belong to Sirius Black and Remus Lupin, but to Siri Williams and her friend Remus Maddox.
Minerva McGonagall had taught hundreds of students in her life. Even so, it was rare for her to mistake her current students for her past ones. But the resemblance between this current pair and the ghosts of her past was both uncanny and unsettling. And made her feel the loss of her students and friends all the more keenly.
She missed them. She missed the studious werewolf. She missed the mischievous pranksters. She missed Albus' wisdom. She could go on for hours listing who she missed and wishing for the days when things didn't remind her of her losses so often. But she had classes to teach tomorrow, so it was time to go to bed.