Running out of ways to say hi, guys! It's good to be writing This! This is my Houses standard for round 6, Slytherin Astronomy student. The prompt I picked is [emotion] weariness. I hope you guys love it!

Word Count: 1102

Betas: Butterflies765, VanillaAshes

The start of another year. As Minerva McGonagall prepared to face the returning students, she couldn't help but think about how much things had changed here since she'd first started teaching at Hogwarts. How many more times will I get to have to see those faces looking up anxiously at me?

It was the term after Dumbledore had died. That alone had been hard enough to handle. He'd been her colleague, and her friend, for the last several decades.

Minerva remembered her first term teaching, when she was just the young, new Transfiguration teacher. It had taken her a few years to develop her teaching style, but she'd quickly earned a reputation for being strict and no nonsense and soon, she realized that it suited her. There was no room to be messing around when Switching Spells were involved, after all.

She had slowly become an indispensable member of Hogwarts staff, but no one would have thought that when she had started. The rumblings of discontent from the Pureblood community had been circulating for years, but now they were getting ever more brazen in their search for support. For ten years, their propaganda and violence began to attract people tired of living in secrecy.

Minerva and the other teachers had tried to keep their students from the discontent for a while, but their best efforts weren't enough to keep the outside world away. Gradually, students began taking sides in their parents' conflicts. McGonagall often had to stop fights between students who found themselves on different sides. An announcement from Dumbledore had made it clear that these types of displays would not be tolerated, but that did little to curb it.

Minerva remembered the morning she'd woken up and found out that the Potters were dead. It started as a murmur among the students that she didn't understand. She couldn't figure out what was going on from the snippets of conversation she overheard on her way to the staff table. It was Professor Vector who told her what had happened.

"They're dead," she whispered anxiously once Minerva had asked her if she knew anything. "The Potters!"

Minerva knew Lily and James Potter, of course. How many times had she had to reprimand James for doing something ridiculous in her class? Lily had been one of the few students who understood the theory of Transfiguration, even if it was later in her studies.

She'd lost students and former students over the years. At this point, she'd been teaching for about fifteen years or so, so maybe it was inevitable at some point. It never got any easier. She always imagined her students as, well, students. Children. It was hard to imagine them as adults, out in the world, making decisions that would lead to their end.

Another feeling had been creeping in over the last, intense year. The number of deaths mounted, and the feeling of fear permeated deeper and deeper into the castle, so much that even the first years could sense that something was wrong, even if they didn't understand exactly what it was yet. Initially, she was devastated by each new death she learned of.. however, there was only so much hardship one could bear before you started to become numb to it. The grief was still there, of course. But it quickly was replaced by weariness. She wanted this to end, if only for the students' sakes.

It was this feeling that consumed Minerva when she returned under Snape's rule of Hogwarts. She'd briefly considered resigning her post as a statement, but knew that in her absence, the Death Eaters would fill the empty place with one of their own. If she were there, she could try to protect the students as best she could. She could at least give them a space to vent.

And so here she was, waiting at the staircase for the incoming first years to arrive. She heard the trodden of dozens of feet as they approached, led by Hagrid. Minerva had to stop herself from tears as she took in the low numbers. With the new Blood Status law, how many Muggleborns had found out they had magic, only to be denied the opportunity to learn more about their abilities?

"Firs' years, Professor McGonagall," Hagrid said as he stopped, allowing the students to pass him.

"Thank you, Hagrid." She nodded to him. "Go ahead into the Hall."

Hagrid strode past them all and disappeared into the Great Hall, leaving Minerva alone with the new students. Most of them seemed excited and carefree. She noticed a couple who seemed more serious than the others, as if they had a sense of the things that were to come. Another wave of sadness hit her as she realized that they'd already lost their ignorance of the wider world. The weariness returned with it. How many more childhoods would these monsters take away?

"Welcome to Hogwarts, children," Minerva began, collecting herself. "I am Professor McGonagall, your…"

She gave her usual speech, informing them about the upcoming Sorting, and the expectations for general behavior. However, when she finished, she felt compelled to say something extra. It's not your responsibility, she chided herself. But if it wasn't her, who else would do it?

"What I'm about to say must stay between us," she began. "A few of you may know that there is a great deal of strife and danger in the wizarding world at this time. I know many think you're too young to know such things, but you must be prepared. The people involved in causing such fear would not spare you because you are young.

"Yes, this is a dark time, but I promise you, I- and the rest of the staff- will do our utmost to protect you, and every other student in these walls. You must be strong, or if someone can't be, help them be strong. You may see terrible things. You may see so much horror that you grow tired of it. Hold each other up, though, and I know you can make it through this. You may be a bit sadder for it, but you'll be stronger and better for the friendships you make, and the strength you give each other."

She met each students' gaze as she finished speaking. Some of them had wide, scared eyes. Others appeared close to tears. A few, however, seemed to be taking her words to heart. Minerva hoped that her words would help them get through the times ahead. They would be aware, and keep each other safe.

But for how long would that suffice?