***Disclaimer***
Unfortunately for J. K., I decided to play with her characters and allow them to make complete
fools of themselves. How embarrassing for her to see them mistreated such!!!!! Anyway, they're
not mine and I'm not getting even a penny of her millions from this escapade.
***Author's Note***
Well, whaddya know! Two chapters in one day! I'm quite proud of myself, to tell the truth. Not
that I'll get this updated tonight, but still I made myself write it while I was on a roll and
that's what counts. Thanks to all the aforementioned lovely reviewers and to any wonderful souls
who review before this chapter is published. Btw, any help or suggestions you can make (besides
criticizing my html coding abilities, I already know I'm a total dunce at that) will be
gratefully accepted. Thanks! -insaneflautist
* * * * * * * * * * * *
She awoke the next morning thinking it had all been a dream. It wasn't until she saw the
envelope lying on her dresser and her cloak, damp from the dewy grass, that she remembered the
strange events that had occurred the night before and Aithne and Terrel. "What to do...." she
whispered to herself. Today she had not been awakened by sunshine, as she had been yesterday,
and the damp, dreariness of the day made the burdening decision seem even weightier than ever.
Then, with all the willpower she had, she forced thoughts of last night to the back of her mind
for the moment as she prepared herself for classes that day and headed down to breakfast.
She passed more early-risers than usual in the corridor, several with worried expressions.
Spotting Seamus Finnegan in the crowd, a fifth year and a Gryffindor whom she knew fairly well,
she stopped him.
"Seamus, did something happen? There is something strange about everyone this morning..."
"Did you not hear, Professor? There was another attack by-" he swallowed hard "-You-Know-Who.
They're saying lots of the Muggle-born students lost parents and siblings. Worst attack in
years, they say... Fifth one in the last two months..."
The reaction his words had on his Professor scared Seamus slightly. Her face went ghostly white
and he had never seen her lips go so thin. "Are you alright, Professor?" he asked hesitantly.
"Yes, thank you, Seamus. You may go now." She turned and continued towards the Great Hall,
walking very quickly with her head bowed slightly. Seamus bit his lip, then continued on his
way as well.
* * *
Another attack... Worse than ever, Seamus had said. Just like the one there had been by
Grindlewald when she was in school. And, oh, how horrible it would be for those who had lost
their parents... She knew.
* * *
As she picked at the scrambled eggs on her golden plate, she realized she had never felt less
hungry in her life. The stench of the words You-Know-Who uttered from Seamus' lips had
completely depleted any appetite she might have had. The Unspeakables were completely forgotten.
Any minute, the owls would come. Any minute.
As soon as this thought crossed her mind, all the eyes in the room rose to the heavens as if
drawn by a greater force, watching and listening as the flapping of wings grew louder and
louder. When the owls burst into the Great Hall, she had a feeling she had experienced only
once before: a feeling of both relief and greater horror at the same time. And behind the usual
post, there were eleven doves of solid white, each carrying a golden envelope.
Oh, God help those who received one of those innocent-looking golden envelopes.
The eleven doves circled the room once and, for once, there was complete silence in the Great
Hall as every eye followed their flight, every ear caught the almost imperceptible stirring of
the air as their feathered wings beat smoothly. Then, when they had completed the lap around
the massive room, the snowy-white birds descended silently into the huddle of students, each one
willing the doves to choose someone else, to go to another table. She counted during the
descent: six to the Gryffindors, two to Ravenclaw, two to Hufflepuff, and one to the staff
table. None to Slytherin. Of course.
She was not worried about the one coming to the staff table; it would not be her. She had no
one left to die, no one left to weep for. She did feel sorry, however, when the dove drifted
into the hands of Rhiannon Sinistra, the Astronomy teacher. She did not know Rhiannon well; she
was rather a hermit, rarely choosing to venture down from the tower in which she worked and
lived. Minerva was not surprised when she took the letter without opening it and left silently,
almost serenely. That seemed to be her nature. She would mourn in silence as many had before
her. Minerva knew.
As soon as she had followed the dove's descent to the staff table, her eyes snapped back to the
body of students sitting before her. Almost all of the students who had received a letter had
burst into tears, one into complete hysterics, causing quite a distraction as friends and
teachers rushed to comfort those in need.
However, only she saw the one girl from the Gryffindor table slip out, clutching the golden
envelope in her fist. Even her fellow Gryffindors, distracted by others who were grieving more
noisily, took little notice. Minerva felt her heart sink to her toes as she recognized the
figure leaving the room.
She looked at Albus for permission to leave and, when he nodded, exited in the same direction
as the student had. She knew instinctively where she would find the girl; Minerva herself had
found solace and comfort in the same place years before.
The Owlery.
She pushed open the great wooden door quietly, easing it shut again so the hinges would make no
noise to disturb both the jewel-eyed owls and the girl. For a moment, she allowed her eyes to
adjust to the dark, then began seeking out the figure. It wasn't difficult to see the girl
huddled in a corner, with her knees pulled up to her chest and her face hidden. Her shoulders,
heaving ever so slightly with every silent sob, were the only sign of movement.
Taking a deep breath and praying that she could help instead of hurt, Minerva stepped over to
the corner where the girl was and sat down beside her. She sat silently for a minute, trying to
decide what to say and do. Then, she began to speak very softly, almost in a whisper.
"Hermione, dear, are you alright?"
The girl tried to answer, but all that she could do was weep helplessly. Not knowing what to
do, McGonagall hesitated. During her fourth year, people had told her that it was alright and
that everything would be okay, but she knew there was no truth to those statements. All they
could ever be were empty words, which were surely the last things Hermione wanted to hear at the
moment. So, instead, she said nothing and just hugged her rather awkwardly.
She sat there with Hermione for a long time in the semi-darkness. Surely breakfast was over by
now, but that didn't matter. For probably an hour, they sat, Hermione sobbing harder than she
ever had in her life onto McGonagall's shoulder. Finally, when Hermione's tears had slowed,
Minerva pulled away to reach into her pocket. She found the clean spare handkerchief she always
carried and never used, the one her mother had so carefully embroidered with the curling letters
M. A. M., Minerva Adele McGonagall, and pressed it into Hermione's hand.
"Stay here for as long as you like; I'm sure no one will see a problem with it," she said
quietly. She patted Hermione's back once more, then left silently.
When she stepped into the dreary day, the front of her cloak was stained with traces of tears.
She wasn't sure if they were Hermione's or her own.
A.N. Please don't kill me, I promise things will get better after this thoroughly depressing
chapter. I won't do it again, for a little while, anyway. :)