AN: Here's the sequel to "Potterwatch", which can be viewed by going to my author page. Please...PLEASE review. A lot of you have signed up for author alerts, so I know you know I know you are reading. So review!
Transmission Prologue
The pain in Minerva Mcgonagall's limbs was beginning to return as the adrenaline of the battle was starting to leave her, and her bones felt older than ever. She rubbed her aching shoulders as she walked through the entrance hall, stepping heavily around the rubble. She stumbled through the ruins of her beloved school, dotted with the blood of her students, colleagues, and friends. The victory had outweighed the tragedy, and her euphoria stymied her sadness, but once the clean up was underway, the losses that were suffered came into the forefront.
Minerva took a deep breath and mustered up that familiar strength in which she had always taken great pride. She walked purposely to The Great Hall to begin the long and arduous process of picking up the pieces. She looked around the majestic room, and her strength almost failed her as her heart leapt in her throat.
The long, wooden tables had been pushed aside, and a veritable makeshift hospital had been put in its place. There was chaos everywhere; cries of pain, dead bodies, and people flying panicked from one injured person to the other were filling the scene with images of the aftermath of war. Minerva knew she could not fall victim to her grief; not yet at least. She needed to take care of everyone else first. Madame Pomfrey walked by her hurriedly.
"Poppy! If you don't mind, please go up to the hospital wing and ready yourself for the injured. I shall send you help and patients in a few minutes," she commanded. The tired woman nodded and rushed out the door and up the stairs of the entrance hall.
Minerva scanned the room again, her eyes landing on the Weasley Family crowded around the dead body of Fred. She bit her lip to prevent it from quivering, resolving to leave the family alone with their grief and moving on to areas where she could actually provide some help. She spotted Hermione Granger and Angelina Johnson standing outside the group of Weasleys, looking just as stricken, but also apprehensive and unsure. Minerva decided to occupy them for the time being, as a way to numb and stall the inevitable. She walked slowly over to the two young women so as to not disturb the Weasley's makeshift memorial.
"Miss Granger, Miss Johnson, may I speak to you?" she whispered, beckoning them away from their posts. As they walked to the front of the hall, she noticed Harry Potter sitting next to the slain bodies of Remus and Tonks. Minerva's composure was wavering with every second. When they were away from the chaos of the Great Hall and in the entryway, she did what she did best and instructed.
"I understand how hard all this must be, and trust me, I empathize. However, I also know that things need to be done and it may help to pass this hard time. Are you ladies up to helping me get things somewhat in order?" She asked, so worried she would appear cold. But the girls nodded resolutely, jutting out their jaws in defiance of their own emotions.
"Excellent! Miss Granger, can you find Neville Longbottom and go to the Hospital Wing to assist Madame Pomfrey? We are going to need to decide who we can help here, and who we'll need to send to St. Mungo's."
Hermione nodded and walked quickly through the crowds toward Neville.
"Ms. Johnson, can you find Wood and start removing the dead?" Minerva started. Angelina looked suddenly sick and frightened, but immediately straightened herself and nodded. Minerva couldn't stop a tear from escaping her eyes and put her arm gently around the tall young woman's shoulders.
"I know this is hard. We all want to fall apart, but you are a bright and strong witch. You will get through this, but don't rush recovery, take your time. For now, we simply need to postpone the inevitable," Minerva added.
Angelina nodded solemnly and fought back tears.
"I will be stationed to catalog the deceased. Mister Shackelbolt has contracted some allied Ministry employees to finish the process of dealing with the dead."
Angelina ran toward Oliver Wood to give him instructions. A clearing of the throat drew her attention downward.
"Oh yes! Filius, are you undertaking the necessary repairs?" she asked, crouching down and placing a hand on his shoulder.
"Of course, Minerva. Pamona and Horace are with Poppy, creating healing potions. Sybill, Sinistra, and Vector are to assist me in repairs. Is there anything else you need?" he asked, a tired look in his usually light-filled eyes.
"No, thank you. Besides the injured, deceased, and repairs, the members of The Ministry that still remain will handle everything else, including the criminals," she said, watching as her dear friend scuttled off, his wand drawn to set about working.
Minerva transfigured a table and summoned some parchment to begin counting their losses. The first body to be carried through nearly shrank her down to nothing.
"Colin Creevy," said Oliver Wood. The small boy was being levitated with a sheet over his body. She wrote his name down slowly, as if delaying her guilt.
"If only I would have ensured he left the castle," she thought, as a stream of bodies floated into the castle, their carriers calling out names. Each name seemed to tear away another piece of her. Finally, after two hours, there were only two bodies left, as she had decided to leave Fred to Arthur and Molly.
"Remus and Nymphadora Lupin," said Harry quietly, Lee Jordan following behind while levitating Tonks.
"It is done," she said, as Potter nodded and floated Remus to the Ministry officials before slowly walking away from the crowd. Lee carefully floated Tonks out after her husband.
"Mr. Jordan, can you still access your radio signal equipment?"
"As far as I know."
"Could you please do a broadcast recounting what has transpired here, and memorializing all we have lost?" Minerva asked, handing him a copy of her list. "It would be best to bring your equipment here, as we cannot predict how safe things are at present."
"Sure. No pressure or anything," Lee mumbled. Minerva almost felt like smiling at this, nostalgic for the carelessness of youth embodied in Lee's particular brand of humor. She left the nearly deserted hall and made for her sleeping quarters near Gryffindor Tower.
She slowly slipped out of her robes and into the comfort of her traditional tartan dressing gown. She sat at her mirror and took down her hair, letting it fall in long silver locks down her back. As she began to brush, the movement in a photograph on her modest vanity table caught her eye.
She was younger in this picture, perhaps in her late twenties, and she had just started teaching at Hogwarts. In the photo, Albus Dumbledore, still possessing his auburn hair, had his arm around her, and a triumphant smile on his face. Minerva rose, grabbed the photo, lay gently upon her small bed … and sobbed.
"Good morning, witches and wizards, family and friends. It's a fine day to be alive in the wee hours of May 1st, 1997. A fine day indeed," Lee started, alone in an abandoned classroom, his lips almost touching his makeshift microphone. He had no idea how to proceed, but was acutely aware that his voice on the radio was his contribution, and he had to honor it…if not for himself, then for Fred.
"Approximately 4 hours ago, Harry Potter vanquished The Dark Lord, and with the help of many brave witches and wizards, we now are free from fear. Kingsley Shackelbolt will be our interim Minister of Magic as we all pick up the pieces and get on with our lives. Please contact anyone you can to help us rebuild our world during these crucial weeks.
"So as the sun rises, stand up and be proud. It's a new day for the Wizarding World, and we need to meet this new era head on."
He spoke carefully and with more power than he thought he was capable of. Lee felt like an asshole, speaking such platitudes, especially considering the hole boring into his heart where Fred was supposed to be. But the show much go on, so did he.
"I will now read the names of every man, woman, and creature who gave his or her life last night so we could be free."
Lee proceeded, unflinching, as he listed his friends on the air. He dreaded the end of the list where the neat scrawl held the name of a lifelong friend.