disclaimer: it all belongs to J.K. Rowling

I just wanted you to know that I actually think that Dumbledore would have told McGonagall about his plans to let Snape kill him if they had been a couple. But for this story I needed it to be different, so please accept the assumptions I made.

Anyway, I would just love to know how Minerva reacts when she finds out about Voldemort breaking Albus' grave open and I hereby want to challenge everyone who reads this to write his own take on that. Can't wait to know what comes to your minds!

This one hasn't been beta-ed so sorry for all the small and all the rather big mistakes I somehow always manage to put into my fics.

Please, r&r!

Her last vow

by Kassandra Luem

It was a cold night in the Scottish Highlands. The moon kept disappearing behind a blanket of white clouds that covered the sky and the only light was provided by the white gleaming clouds that covered the silver sphere. There was a sharp wind that rustled the trees and bushes, with a biting edge to it that made even the animals, usually used to the february cold, seek shelter deeper inside the forest.

But the solitary figure that crossed the Hogwarts grounds didn't seem to notice the cold, even though her white dressing gown was billowing around her feet at every gust. It was like some invisible force kept pulling her forward, nearer and nearer to the place where his body had been put to rest. She moved slowly, with a peculiar mixture of reluctance and longing, her feet finding their path even though it was too dark to make out her surroundings clearly.

A particularly strong blow of wind lashed her hair against her face, almost making her tumble for the sheer force of it. With a tired gesture she tucked some the long, raven strands back behind her ear, letting the others be blown around her head freely.

If her collegues could see her like this, they'd surely think that she had lost it completely now. Oh, the Carrows would only be too glad to finally have a reason to remove her from her teaching post for good. As for Snape… A bitter laugh escaped her lips, the hollow sound a parody of what a laugh was supposed to be. Snape. Headmaster Snape. The man who had killed her husband. Tired, emerald eyes closed in resignation. The man she had to see everyday, to treat with at least a semblance of respect when all she wanted to do was to scream at him why he had had to take the only person away from her that made her feel alive. Oh how she longed to make him feel the pain she felt, to make him pay for what he had done.

Avada Kedavra.

She felt the words on the tip of her tongue everytime she saw him. And yet here she was, walking by the lake on bare feet to visit the grave of the man she had loved and still did meanwhile he was sleeping peacefully in the chambers that had once been theirs.

She had done nothing. Nothing to prevent him from throwing out most of Albus possession as if they were merely a collection of random pieces that were no longer needed. No, she had quietly crept into the room later and retrieved photo albums, books and letters from the boxes that were to be thrown away the next day. And she was supposed to be a Gryffindor! A Gryffindor, when she had just sat by, watching him trample on everything her husband had cherished. Not once had she done anything to get revenge for what this man had done. She felt like abandonning her husband all over again. It had been her who had sent for Snape that night and even though Lupin had been right saying that Snape would have been called anyway, she still felt responsible. And now it was her that betrayed her husband again by taking orders from the man that had killed him.

The more reasonable part of her kept arguing that she was holding back for the wellbeing of their students. That Albus would have wanted her to think about them first and therefore do nothing that could get her suspended because then she couldn't protect them any longer. A bitter snort made its way past her firmly set lips. As if she could do that much against the Carrows! Most of the time she just felt utterly helpless when confronted with their malice.

Suddenly the moon appeared through a hole in the blanket of clouds and bathed the whole scene in an etheral silver light.

Her gaze was immediately drawn to the tomb. The white marble gleamed, seeming to concentrate all the light on its surface before releflecting it a hundredfold brighter. At first she blamed the light for the strange shadows that looked like cracks. But as soon as she got closer she realized that shadows and moonlight had nothing to do with the cracks that marked the stone.

A dry, wretched scream cut through the silence. Even when it had died away, the hollow sound still seemed to cling to the scene, tainting it with horror. The woman in front of the grave stood rigid and erect, not a lid moving, the wind lashing against her silhouette. Only her eyes betrayed emotion, they were opened wide, staring blankly down at the mummed figure of the man she loved. She wanted to close her eyes, to turn away, run back to her chambers and erase this image out of her mind, but something held her in place, freezing her on the spot.

Her eyes sought his face under the white bandages, the crook of his nose, his mouth, his eyes. His incredible blue, twinkling eyes. But those eyes would never twinkle at her again, they would never be fixed upon her with that mixture of love and understanding that made her feel so warm, so at home.

,,Albus…''

It was no more than a whisper, immediately torn from her lips by the wind. But suddenly something seemed to snap. Her knees gave way and her lean figure crumbled to a heap in front of the cracked marble stone. Her body wracked with sobs she didn't even try to suppress.

Who would do something like this? What a monster did you have to be in order to break open someone's grave? She knew who had done this, but shock kept her tightly in its grip. She just couldn't believe it. Couldn't they at least let him rest in peace? Did she really ask too much when she just wanted them too leave him alone, at least in death? They had taken the very last place that had been precious to her because it connected her to him. First their chambers, then the attack on their summer cottage and now – this. Hatred flooded her veins like nothing she had ever experienced before. They were going to pay for this. They were so going to pay! A tremor went through her body as she felt an icy cold spread inside her that had nothing to do with the low temperature.

For now, she would do what Albus would have wanted her to do – protect the students. But when the day of the battle came, Minerva McGonagall would show them the wrath of a woman bereft.

Slowly, she stood to her full height. Jet black hair was flowing around her face and by now her dressing gown was stained and at the point of being torn by the wind. She didn't even notice. She just stood in front of her husband's corpse, completely frozen, making her last vow to him. And when her eyes left his figure and looked back towards the castle, there was nothing in them except for a promise of death for those who had taken away her life.

AN: So what do you think? Somehow it took me much longer to write this than any of my other fics, so I'm not quite sure if I like this one...Please review!