A/N: Slow but steady does it...


'What, today?' Ginny said uncertainly.

Charlie smiled apologetically. 'I'm sorry. My boss wants me back, needs me back if you read his owls. And, Gin, you know as well as I do that…'

She really didn't want to hear the end of that sentence. 'Okay. But it's so soon!'

'Well, Bill's going to be here for a few more days.'

'Yeah, I know.' Trying to smile, she said, 'Guess I'm stuck here on my own then.'

Her brother shifted his weight. 'I wanted to talk to you about that actually. Percy's moved back to his rooms, I think Fred and George are going today. And Ron is.'

Ginny nodded. 'And Madam Pomfrey wants rid of me too.'

'No, it's nothing like that. I just thought you might want to… I don't know, get back to normal.' On seeing her look, he hastily went on, 'I know it's not that easy but you have to start sometime.'

'Do I?' she muttered.

He sighed and stood. 'How about we start off easy? Come to breakfast.'

'Oh, you call that easy?'

'Gin…'

'I don't want to be in there, with everyone watching me and knowing and… Malfoy laughing…'

'You have to do it sometime. You can't hide away.'

'But I want to,' she answered with a dark smile.

Charlie extended his hand and pulled her to her feet. 'But you can't.'


The little sleep Minerva had managed hadn't replenished her one jot. Her frantic musings of the early hours had put her into a slight slumber but she didn't feel rested at all: her thoughts were still incoherent and muddled. Anger happened to be a prevalent theme, perhaps the only relevant one.

Rousing herself from her pensive state she tucked the parchment resting on her desk into her robes and set off. When she reached her chambers she found Hermione Granger awake and dressed. 'Good morning.'

'Good morning, Professor,' the student answered apprehensively. 'Is something wrong?'

Minerva studied the girl steadily. 'Did you read what you gave me yesterday?'

'No.'

'Are you certain?'

'Yes, of course.'

Satisfied, she sat in her chair by the window and looked out over the grounds, just beginning to dust with a grim daylight. 'How do you reconcile doing what is right and doing what is expected of you?'

There was a silence. Then Hermione came to stand beside her. 'I suppose it depends on your own conscience. Whether you can live with the decisions you make.'

Minerva glanced at her sympathetically. 'I must do what is right then.'

'And what is that, Professor?'

'Let's go to breakfast,' she announced.


Hermione trotted behind her teacher, struggling to keep up. She wasn't overly certain what was going on but the determination within McGonagall's movements scared her a little bit. She was used to the Professor being in more control that she seemed to be at the moment.

The doors to the Great Hall were open, which was fortunate because Hermione had the feeling McGonagall would've flung them open with her wand had they been closed. As it was, the teacher stormed straight down the centre of the hall towards the staff table. All the students turned their heads to watch, and Hermione slowed next to Harry as she noticed the entire Weasley family dining alongside him. Ginny had seen her but was focused, like everyone else, on the figure of McGonagall who had halted in front of Snape.

Suddenly, the Transfiguration Professor raised her wand, muttered an incantation and Snape flew up six metres into the air.

Everyone was on their feet, Dumbledore included, as Snape angrily demanded, 'What in Merlin's name…'

'Be quiet,' McGonagall insisted, her tone dangerously hard. Holding him steadily aloft, she removed the parchment from the previous day and shook it open. 'A letter, a confessional perhaps.'

'Minerva,' Dumbledore cautioned.

'No, Albus! September: I envision problems. Severus is reluctant at making my potion, as though as I relish asking him. October: I would stockpile it if I could.'

Hermione glanced to Ginny whose eyes had widened furiously. The rest of the Weasleys were watching in the same manner: Harry, she noted, looked horrified but unsurprised.

'There is much more,' McGonagall said loudly. 'However, this is personal favourite: If you are reading this, Minerva, I know that what I feared has occurred. I have hidden thins in a place that perhaps will not be searched in the hope that you will at least understand. And perhaps forgive me, if I have done irreparable harm. If Snape refuses to give me my potion I know what is likely to happen, and the thought petrifies me.'

Snape raised his chin several inches. 'Lies.'

McGonagall shook her head and lifted him higher. 'No.'

'Put him down,' Dumbledore said suddenly. 'Now, Minerva.'

Bill Weasley stood, approaching the staff table carefully. 'Professor, we heard.'

Snape literally dropped to the ground with a thunk. McGonagall turned and stamped purposefully out of the hall while all eyes remained fixated on the figure of Snape who was standing shakily.

'Back to your breakfasts, all of you,' Dumbledore commanded as the Potions professor also vanished from the hall.

Hermione didn't know what to do. The Weasleys stood, led by Charlie, and left and a few seconds later she felt Harry's hand on her arm. 'Come on,' he said quietly.

Allowing him to take her out of the hall, she only recognised they were in the common room when he pressed her down into a seat. He didn't say anything, just waited. Finally, she said, 'Snape. We should've known. Dumbledore can't ignore this.'

'McGonagall really lost it,' Harry answered. 'I've never seen her like that before.'

'Well, what do you expect, Harry? She thinks this is all her fault! And it's not,' she added quickly. 'It's Snape, it's Pettigrew. She didn't…' Finding words failing her, she just shook her head.

He sighed. 'It's all too tangled.'

'Imagine how she feels! And Mrs Weasley! Who's thinking about them?'

'Hermione…' he began but she cut him off.

'I don't care that it hurts me. I lied and it was wrong, Harry, I know that. But do you think McGonagall's ever put herself first in her life? Because I don't. And you didn't see her with Mrs Weasley- they were happy!' Her eyes began welling up and she squeezed them shut momentarily to stem the tears. 'How do you reconcile doing what is right and doing what is expected of you?'

Harry looked confused. 'What?'

'That's what she said earlier. I understand it.'


'Are you hiding from me, Minerva?'

She hadn't locked the door, assuming that no one would venture onto the island. Albus, of course, knew of its existence and she should've recognised this as a possibility but her mind had been consumed elsewhere. Hearing his voice, she didn't turn her head, she stared into the empty fireplace from her chair.

After a few moments, he came forward and took the other seat, shooting sparks from his wand into the fire so flames suddenly danced around the dim cottage. 'Do you expect me to punish you?' he questioned finally.

'Do what you must.'

'Would you enjoy punishment?'

Refusing to look at him, she watched the fire. 'I doubt I could enjoy anything at the moment.'

'Ah, but pain is preferable to pleasure, isn't it?' Albus answered.

'Yes,' she admitted softly.

His hand reached for her arm but when she recoiled he sighed. 'Minerva, please.'

She felt herself shuddering. 'Albus… Don't.'

'You need…'

'I need,' she interrupted heatedly, 'to be left alone! Have you come to suspend me?'

'No,' he replied after a pause. 'I will, of course, be investigating your allegations against Severus Snape.'

'And what of me attempting to kill him?'

'I doubt you would've done anything irrevocable, Minerva. I believe I know you better than that.'

She laughed derisively. 'I trust you know me better than I do then.'

For a long while he was silent. When he did speak his voice was soft, almost inaudible. 'Shall I tell you something I do know about Molly Weasley?' The name bit into her and she didn't acknowledge having heard him. He continued nevertheless. 'I know Molly is one of the kindest people you could come across. She's loving, caring, a brilliant mother, a wonderful friend, an excellent woman.'

This was hurting. 'Yes.'

'You admit it?'

'Of course I admit it. Molly's all those things and more.'

'So you would agree, then, that only a person of enormous value themselves could attract Molly?'

She stood suddenly. 'What are you doing, Albus?'

'You've been set on helping Hermione,' he said, also standing. 'I understand that, I applaud it, but I believe you're using her to mask your own emotions. It'd do you good to admit it.'

'Do you…' Her voice faltered and she cleared her throat. 'I won't, Albus. Let me be.'

'Can I put forward a hypothesis?'

'I'm sure you would anyway,' she replied, not looking to him.

'I believe,' he said in a low voice, 'that there is one person in the world you would allow to see you in your barest state. Am I right?'

'Goodbye, Albus,' she murmured, leaving him downstairs as she moved to the upper floor and sat down on the bed. She heard him leave, then she let out her breath and closed her eyes. Feeling a tear escape her, she immediately wiped it clear of her face.


Having left the common room to avoid a confrontation with the Weasleys, Hermione was dismayed to bump into Ginny and Bill as she rounded a corner. She felt extremely exposed as she looked up to find Ginny's eyes on her- but they held a distinct lack of venom. Swallowing, she muttered, 'Sorry, I didn't see you.'

'It's okay,' Bill said. 'Do you know where Professor McGonagall is?'

'No. I haven't seen her since…' She lowered her eyes again. 'I'd try her office.'

'We will,' he answered. 'Thank you.'

When they'd continued walking, Hermione leaned against the wall to prop her up. She felt that if she'd crossed a bridge in the last few weeks she was now back under it, floundering hopelessly. She wanted resolution. She needed it. So did McGonagall, she guessed. And Mrs Weasley. The trouble was, there was nothing possible that was going to give them it, was there?


Minerva had returned to her office a short time previously, intent on distancing herself from the emotions Noviomagus made her revisit. Sometimes she needed to feel the pain but at the moment it was too much and she desperately needed to keep away from it. In her office, she believed she was safe.

Evidently, that was a false assumption, she came to realise when there was a knock at her door. 'Come,' she said, mindful that it could be Hermione.

It wasn't. It was Bill Weasley. 'May I come in, Professor?'

She nodded apprehensively. 'Of course.'

He closed the door and came to sit opposite her. 'I wanted to tell you; I've been talking to Charlie. We were going back to work but…' He paused and sighed. 'We want to find Lupin, before someone else does. We know what Dad would've wanted and a lynching party is far from it.'

Minerva took this in. 'Admirable. 'Your father would've been… I'm sorry.'

'No,' Bill replied. 'I don't pretend I understand, Professor, but I realise this is difficult for you.'

She glanced up. 'Not in the slightest bit comparable.'

'Have you any idea,' he went on finally, 'where we might find him?'

She sighed. 'I don't know about the obvious places. They will have been checked immediately by the Ministry. They might be worth examining though. I have his address.' After locating it, she handed it over. 'If you find him…'

'I'll tell him,' Bill answered to her unasked question. 'Um… Professor?'

'Yes, Bill?'

'Ginny would like a word.'

She felt herself stiffen at that, but she again nodded and watched him leave the room. A few seconds later his sister appeared, carrying the robes she'd worn to the funeral the previous day. Minerva stood. 'Ginny?'

The young girl held out the robes. 'I figured it was you.'

'I didn't expect them back,' she said, taking them nevertheless. 'I'm sorry if I out of turn sending them but…'

'But Mum would've done it,' Ginny interrupted. 'I know. Thanks.'

'You're welcome,' Minerva said, uncertain.

'Right,' Ginny said, swiftly leaving the office. Minerva sat down and placed the robes on her desk. At least, she supposed, Ginny hadn't thrown them at her. That had to indicated something, surely.


In the last week or so she'd become too aware of all the sounds that surrounded this little country house. She knew, in essence, what was normal and what wasn't. That was how she'd managed to avoid the Ministry on their five visits to the cottage. Of course, it did mean that she'd hardly slept but that worried her little. She knew that if she slept, she'd dream. Anything was preferable to that.

So something that sounded like a masked cough immediately caught her attention. With her wand raised, Molly moved stealthily to the back door, relieved that she never bothered to illuminate the house when darkness fell, preferring instead to sit pensively in the darkness until the sun began to rise.

It wasn't the Ministry. They made more effort to be quiet. Perhaps it was just a Muggle burglar or something, the house was on the outskirts of a Muggle village after all. Still afraid, but rather hoping someone was out there, she threw open the door and called, 'Stop right there, whoever you are!'

Out of the shadows stepped a cloaked figure. With a brisk yet trembling movement two thin hands removed the hood. 'Molly…'

Her wand fell limply to her side. 'Remus.'