I was nearing the end of Deathly Hallows, again, and these thoughts occurred to me about what it was like for Professor McGonagall after the battle.
I do not own the rights to the Harry Potter series. All credit goes to J.K. Rowling.
Here's what I came up with. Hope you enjoy it.
Minerva McGonagall was exhausted. The battle was over and the Great Hall was nearly empty. The dead had been placed in the most elegant caskets she could conjure. They were all lined up in several rows. She did not want to think about how many there were nor about how many she knew and cared for. She was simply too tired to grieve at the moment.
Madam Pomfrey was finishing up with her 2 last patients. Mr. Finnigan had a broken arm and his friend, Mr. Thomas had several nasty cuts that were being healed even as she watched. Minerva was quite proud, indeed, of all of her Gryffindor students who had stayed, fought, and died in battle. The boys themselves, along with Mr. Longbottom, had proven their valor many times last night. It seemed just yesterday that they were boys accidentally setting things on fire and losing toads. Now they were men, men who had seen and done things the young shouldn't see or do. She must remember to reward them somehow.
For now, she just wanted to bathe and go to bed. She bade them all goodnight and set off to her living quarters.
As Minerva walked, she pondered the last moments of the battle, the duel between Mr. Potter and Voldemort, and their conversation. How had Harry known about Severus Snape's love for Lily Potter? How did he know Severus and Albus had planned the death of Professor Dumbledore? She did not know the answers, but she felt in heart of hearts that it was nothing but the truth.
Then, something clicked in her mind, and she remembered seeing Potter leave while the battle had temporarily been halted to treat the injured and gather the dead. Where had he gone without Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger, for they had stayed with the Weasley Family?
Minerva took an alternate route and headed towards the headmaster's office. If there was any one who would know, it would be Albus. Despite her exhaustion, she had to know the whole truth. Perhaps Potter went to consult with him as well.
As she walked passed the tarnished gargoyles laying on the floor, and up the stairs, her heart speed in anticipation giving her the tiniest bit of energy she needed to get on with this interview.
She strolled through the door and right up to Albus' portrait. He was awake and watched her bound forward with a very grim expression on his face. It was as if he knew he was about to be interrogated. Indeed, before she could start speaking, Professor Dumbledore held out a hand. "My dear Minerva," he said, "I know you have questions, and rightly so! However, I think it best if you just see for yourself." He pointed to the desk in behind her, she turned and there rested the pensieve the real Dumbledore had so often utilized. It was filled to the brim of the liquid-gas like substance that was the form a memory took when extracted out of one's mind.
Minerva McGonagall gave Albus a hard accusing look but he merely smiled slightly and gestured, again, to the pensieve. She sighed heavily and took the few steps to sit in the chair, at the desk. She peered in the pensieve and saw flickers of a familiar looking young girl. Where had Unbearably curious, she took the plunge into the pensieve.
She watched the meeting of Severus Snape and Lily Potter, and how they became friends. She witnessed their Hogwarts interactions, how they had severed their friendship. Severus had unknowingly sold Lily's whole family to Voldemort. Minerva could not believe her eyes and anger at Voldemort filled her heart for all the damage that had been done to the whole family, especially Harry. Minerva straightened up and watched as Snape begged Dumbledore to protect the Potter family, how he had, indeed, became Professor Dumbledore's spy. Albus set Severus the task of watching over Harry, and Severus did so despite his contempt for the boy. She watched the scene as Severus was containing a curse in Dumbledore's hand, and finally, how they had agreed Severus would kill Dumbledore.
Minerva nearly broke down then. "How could he ask that of Severus," she thought, "how could he request such a horrible task from anyone?" She crossed her arms tightly, trying to hold herself. "No," she spoke to herself, "I must see the rest, I must know." And she straightened up again, fixed her glasses, and plundered through.
Dumbledore and Snape were now having a very tense conversation about Harry Potter. Dumbledore was explaining how Voldemort had tried to kill Harry as a baby, how the curse had rebounded and a part of Voldemort's soul parted from him and attached itself to Harry. She gasped as she realized the outcome of Harry's fate. "So the boy must die?" Severus asked. "And Voldemort must be the one to do it," Professor Dumbledore said matter-of-factly "That is essential." Severus had become angry and was shouting at Dumbledore, and Minerva honestly could not blame him. How could he keep this information to himself, to use that boy over and over only for him to have to die?
Then she remembered that Harry Potter did, in fact, live, and she left the pensieve.
As Minerva arrived back in the present, a dawning of comprehension and understanding washed over her. She paced back and forth, all the while holding herself more tightly. She recalled Harry's speech to Voldemort, of how he, Harry, had tried to die for everyone fighting in the battle. Voldemort had lied when he sneered about Harry trying to run away to save himself. He had, incontestably, faced Voldemort unarmed as Voldemort mercilessly killed the boy-the young man. But he did not die. "How is that possible?" asked herself.
Minerva stood still for a moment, contemplating. And it slid into place. Voldemort did not kill Harry's soul, he only killed his own piece of soul. The one that attached itself to Harry. Her admiration for Potter increased tenfold. Never in her life had she ever met such a selfless person.
She reminisced about the day Lily and James Potter died. She had learned, through gossip, that Harry Potter was now an orphan. After spending all day watching the horrible Muggles, she had decided to confront Albus Dumbledore and urge him not to leave Harry with such moral-lacking people. She had thought, for just a second, that perhaps Harry could live with her. But when she heard Dumbledore's argument in favor of Harry staying with the Dursley's, she did not confess her feelings. She let Harry go and felt regret ever since.
Minerva squeezed herself again. So Harry lived and defeated Lord Voldemort. She turned to face Albus, who had an expression of deep shame etched upon his face. "It was the only way," he said solemnly. A tear leaked down his nose.
Minerva looked coldly at her old colleague, and friend's face for a moment and then her face softened, finally letting go of herself in defeat and terrible sadness. She sighed, closed her eyes, and whispered, "I know." And then she broke, as she had never done so before. She wept and wept, her heart broken for all of the deaths of her friends, for Harry Potter, who had literally sacrificed himself for all of those still alive, for her deep appreciate that he had defeated Voldemort at last.
She placed her arms and head on the desk and sobbed to her heart's content until, at last, she drifted off into an uneasy deep sleep, where she wouldn't wake for several hours.