the only relationship between Minerva and Hermione that will ever be okay is that of friendship

She hesitates outside the hospital ward, pacing as she wavers on her decision. It's not unreasonable, she assures herself, to want to visit a favorite student. It's not…there's no reason why she shouldn't want to check in on Miss Granger. She tries not to think of Rolanda's painfully understanding face as she stuttered out her need to see Hermione. She's never felt so attached to a student before. As Ro likes to remind her, she's never met a miniature of herself. A girl so dedicated to her school work, so bright, so talented, so gifted and brave.

She had promised Hermione's parents that the girl would be safe here.

Gathering all of her legendary Gryffindor courage (she knows it's not a trait unique to her house, but sometimes she needs to think of it as something inherent inside her), she steps into the ward. Poppy is treating a fifth year Hufflepuff who seems to be suffering from overstress. Minerva can hardly blame the poor lad. With exams approaching and all the attacks, it's hardly surprising that some students are cracking under the strain.

"Professor McGonagall," Poppy greets, formal in front of the student. "Something I can help you with?"

"Er…no. I'm just here to…to check on Miss Granger." She resolutely refuses to blush. Poppy just raises her brows.

"All right, though I don't see the point. She can't hear you."

Minerva refrains from snapping, but only because of the fifth year Poppy is helping. She stalks over to Hermione's bed, and sits down in the chair next to her with as much dignity as she can manage. Now that she is here, she's not sure what she thought this would accomplish. She cannot talk with Hermione, and she feels utterly ridiculous as Poppy watches her from across the room. Finally, the Huflepuff leaves, and Poppy walks over to her.

"Pomona tells me the mandrakes will be ready soon," she says softly.

"Yes."

"She'll be all right, Minerva. They all will."

Minerva can only nod, her lips pressed together.

"You want me to fetch Rolanda?"

"Now why would I want that?" Minerva snaps.

"Maybe so that you can bite her head off instead of mine." Poppy glares at her, then sighs. "We're all under a lot of stress. You always seem more relaxed when she's around."

Letting her irritation fade, Minerva glances up at Poppy. "I doubt even she can help with this. Not unless she knows how to stop the Heir of Slytherin."

"Well, have you asked her?"

Minerva rolls her eyes before turning back to Hermione. "Have the others had any visitors?"

"Percy Weasley has been in several times to check on Miss Clearwater, and half of Hufflepuff keeps trying to sneak in to visit Finch-Fletchley. Though you well know students aren't allowed out on their own now."

"No one else has tried to visit Miss Granger? Or Mr. Creevey?" Minerva is honestly surprised that Ron Weasley and Harry Potter were not constantly trying to visit Hermione. She had thought they were exceptionally close, and also had an exceptional disregard for the rules.

"I'm almost positive the Weasley twins have snuck in, but of course I can't prove it," Poppy says with a frown. "But no one else, no."

The pain in her chest is acute, and she stands abruptly. "I see. Well. I suppose I should be off. With Albus gone…There's too much to do."

"Minerva."

She pauses at the door, looking back at Poppy. "Yes?"

"It's all right to get attached to them, you know. Have favorites." Poppy looks meaningfully at Minerva. "Doesn't mean you're a bad teacher because you like some of them more than others. And it doesn't make you weak, or whatever silly thing you've convinced yourself of." She steps closer to the Deputy Headmistress. "I know you love them. And I know it hurts when you can't help them. Believe me, Minerva, I know. It won't kill you if they know it, too. It's all right if sometimes your walls aren't sky high."

For a moment, Minerva debates whether or not to go off on Poppy. She's never tolerated anyone but Rolanda seeing her softer side. But she's known Poppy Pomfrey for a great many years, and she thinks maybe it won't kill her to accept these words of advice.

"Just… take care of them," she finally says. "I promised their parents they would be safe here." She had gone to each and every home of the muggle-born children. She remembers each of their faces when she told them they had magic. The relief that there was a reason for all the odd things that happened around them. And now her guilt is overwhelming. She brought them here, to danger. Where they faced prejudice and danger because of their blood. Prejudice that they would never have to deal with in the muggle world. Well, not the same kind, at least.

"You know I will."

Minerva nods and briskly departs. She wants more than anything to go find Rolanda and curl up with her in bed with a good book and a cup of tea. But she is acting Headmistress now, and she must keep the school running. She must do what she can to keep the children safe. She almost laughs. Keep them safe. What can she do that Dumbledore couldn't?

Absolutely nothing.

"Professor McGonagall!"

She turns at her name, relief flooding her as she sees Rolanda, and not a student, jogging down the corridor after her.

"Madam Hooch." She inclines her chin in greeting. "Can I do anything for you?" She is fairly certain that Rolanda has been waiting for her. To see if she's 'all right.'

Rolanda rolls her eyes. "Oh, come off it, Min. All the kids are in class."

"You know I prefer—"

"Yes, yes, I know." Rolanda waves her hand dismissively. She catches sight of Minerva's face, drawn tight with her anxiety, and the sparkle fades from her eyes. "You've been to the Hospital Wing?"

"Yes."

"To visit Granger?"

"Yes."

Rolanda steps in close to her and takes Minerva's hand in hers ever so briefly so that there's no chance anyone would see (they don't care if their colleagues know, but Minerva would very much prefer it if her private life was not the subject of student gossip). "Did you give Poppy a hard time?"

"…..Possibly."

"She'll get it all sorted out, Min—"

"Merlin, I wish everyone would stop saying that!" She doesn't mean to explode, she really doesn't, but she's had about as much reassurance as she can take. "We don't know! We don't even know if this type of petrification can be reversed with mandrakes! We don't know—we don't know anything at all! And Albus is gone, and I'm all alone in this! We need to start facing the possibility that it's not all going to be all right! False hope will solve nothing."

Rolanda is quiet for a moment, her head tilted to the side. When she speaks, her voice is low and subdued. "You're not alone."

Mineva locks eyes with Rolanda, and they stand there in the corridor, which will start filling with children at any moment now.

"I know."

Rolanda looks as though she wants to draw Minerva into a hug, but they both hear the sounds of hundreds of footsteps approaching.

"Come to my quarters tonight. I'll have tea. And whisky."

"All right." Minerva nods curtly. "Madam Hooch."

"Professor McGonagall," Rolanda says, giving a lazy salute accompanied by a lopsided smile. Minerva's eyes linger for a few more moments before she plunges into the crowd of students. Their lives are entrusted to her, and she will give her own if it means keeping them safe. She feels as though she may be drowning in the responsibility, and there's too much to do and not enough hours in the day.

But perhaps she could take the time to have a cup of tea.