A/N: Next chapter. REVIEWS please (Do I sound desperate ... Yes, I do, but I don't care :)
Grieving
Sometimes Albus Dumbledore hated his job. Yes, he loved to see his students grow up, discover their individual strengths and become (more or less) responsible young adults. But it was the sending them out into the world on their own part that was truly difficult for him – especially in times as These. He had taught both Malcom and Robert as students here at Hogwarts … Suddenly Albus was brought out of his dark thoughts by a small knock at his office door.
"Enter!" The door opened and in stepped Minerva with an unusually stern expression on her face – as if she knew already what he had to tell her.
"Sit down please, Ms McGonagall." Albus Dumbledore didn't consider himself an exceptionally brave wizard. Yes, he had faced Dragons and dark wizards in his life, but now the only thing he wanted to do was run away.
The use of her formal title in combination with his tone of voice seemed to have proven to Minerva that something was definitely amiss for she sat down in front of his desk without further comment.
"I received an owl from your grandmother Katherine today. There was an attack at the manor." Albus said. There was a small pause as his voice broke at the thought of what he had to tell her now. Then he continued: "I'm so sorry, Minerva, but no one survived."
Albus had expected her to shout, to cry, to break down and hex everything around her. But her reaction, or rather lack of any reaction, was even worse. She just sat there on her chair, in front of his desk unmoving, her eyes closed, her beautiful face void of any expression.
When she did finally open her eyes, it broke Albus' heart to see the expression in those wonderful green orbs. The news of the death of basically all her family had robbed her eyes of the last traces of that childlike light-heartedness and innocence.
Suddenly he stood up and with three long strides he went around to the other side of the table. Without further thought he gathered her up in his arms – may propriety be dammed.
Only then, enclosed in Albus' strong arms did Minerva finally let go of the last string of strength she'd been clinging to in order to not break down completely. Ugly sobs racked her whole body while she cried into Albus' light-blue robes – light-blue like the sky over McGonagall Manor.