Minerva, Poppy, and Rolanda skipped happily to Hogsmeade on a warm April Saturday, faces beaming with excitement as they entered their last few weeks of class. The girls had grown closer than ever before, in many ways Poppy and Rolanda were relieved they got their Minny back. Minerva returned to enjoying many of the aspects of her seventh year that she'd sacrificed to train to be an Animagus, to student teach, and of course, to be with Albus. She started to join gatherings in the Common Room, took every opportunity to leave the castle with her friends, and resumed Quidditch to help train the next year's team. Minerva, while not knowing that Tom's actions were deliberate, still stayed far away from the Head Boy, and much to her puzzlement he avoided her at all costs too.
Minerva was also quite surprised that she received no repercussions for her illicit affair, which she knew that at least Dippet and Blackmar knew of. But the professors still all treated her with dignity and the students' whisperings quickly quelled. After all, Minerva was above reproach. They had no evidence to base their gossip off of. Her child was gone, her lover was gone, and that innocence would never return. But somehow she was coping. She'd come to accept the fact that she'd never be a mother and at least she felt confidence in that Albus would some day return.
The distance was hard for her at first. It was hard seeing Albus in the papers, actively recruiting and declaring war against Grindelwald, but rarely hearing from him. Every other week or so, Albus would send his old owl Butler to her if he could, with updates from his encampment. Although she didn't know where he was saying, Minerva would quickly scribble a reply and attach it to the trusty old owl. She always fed Butler a treat since she was sure he'd be traveling a long distance through a warzone. But she was proud of him, proud to read about him and to hear the other students admire him, as they had no idea he was a hero secretly fighting the entire time that he'd been a professor. Their newfound respect seemed to carry over to her as well. Instead of looking down on Minerva for the alleged affair, they thought it was entirely, wickedly impressive of her.
So now Minerva soaked in the sun with her friends, grabbing a frosty butterbeer from Madame Rosmerta. It was the perfect day until the news hit. Rolanda noticed the 5th year Ravenclaw prefect, Ryan McElroy running towards them. "Christ, it's like he's got two beaters after him!"
Poppy squinted, "What do you think he wants? Is that a Daily Prophet he's carrying?"
The boy was out of breath. "Minerva! I needed to tell you first - it's Grindlewald, he's dead! And Dumbledore killed him! But… but"
Minerva looked at Ryan with a wild panic in her eyes. "And? Spit it out, please!"
"He's missing, they think… they think he could be dead."
The way Rolanda and Poppy looked at her, it seemed like they expected Minerva to collapse in a pile of tears any instant. But she was obviously stronger than that. The girl had been through the loss of her unborn child after all. And she knew Albus wasn't dead. Somehow, she would've felt it. So she pursed her lips together, garnered that stern and severe look that she'd be known for in her later years, and replied.
"Thank you, Ryan. Professor Dumbledore is an excellent mentor and professor, and now a war hero, and I pray they find him safe and sound." The girl gave no traces of her involvement with Albus, but the second the prefect left the three, her facade started to crumble.
Minerva's bottom lip trembled. "Where is he? WHERE is he? He promised he'd come back, he promised he'd be safe, he…" She broke down in front of her friends, who directed her into the alley and held her as she cried, that same alley she'd kissed Albus in back in the fall.
"Shhh, shhh sweetie, it's all right." Poppy cooed, "I'm sure he's not dead and there's an explanation for all this. Let's head back to the castle and find out more information?"
The next weeks felt like agony for Minerva. Albus had made no attempt to contact her and the rest of the castle eventually became certain that he was dead. At first, the entire student body was abuzz with excitement about Grindelwald's defeat and felt so proud of Dumbledore. Dippet made an announcement that night that Hogwarts was lucky to have him on staff and he'd be honored to have the war hero back in the fall to teach. His newfound status as the savior of the wizarding world seemingly erased any wrongdoings, Minerva thought with rolled eyes. She herself was given special treatment as the weeks stretched on and it became less and less likely Albus had survived. Dippet pulled her aside that evening and told her she could take time off from classes if necessary. The open secret of their relationship did have its perks, she supposed.
But now, no one spoke about Dumbledore anymore, and when they did, it was in the past tense as if he'd died. Minerva knew this simply couldn't be true, but if he was alive, why wouldn't he come to her? Why wouldn't he acknowledge the public? Was he hiding from fame? Was he hurt? Did he just not love her anymore?
Minerva laid in her bed in the girls' dormitory, restless with the constant thoughts of Albus's safety and health. It was May by this point and classes were done as the seventh years were expected to spend the month studying for their NEWTs before graduation. She didn't care anymore about perfect scores. She didn't care about being Head Girl or graduating valedictorian. She just wanted Albus to come home.
The NEWTs came and Minerva unsurprisingly received the record for twelve Outstanding NEWT grades, the most of any modern wizard or witch since Albus had scored eleven. Minerva'd received her grades on the morning of the graduation ceremony as she sat in the dormitory, getting ready in that four poster bed one last time. This afternoon, her family would come to celebrate and take her home to the McGonagall manse. Minerva wondered if she'd ever see these halls again. While a few short months ago, she'd wanted nothing more than to stay here forever with Albus, it was now too painful. Minerva wanted to go home, to spend the summer applying to graduate programs in Transfigurations, and to hopefully teach elsewhere, perhaps Beauxbatons?
Minerva thought about the last seven years. She'd met the best friends of her life, she'd achieved perfect marks, starred on the Qudditch team, and led the class. But above all, she'd fallen in love, become engaged, nearly had a child with the smartest and bravest man alive. And then she'd lost him. Minerva allowed herself to cry ever so briefly, after all, it was her graduation and she deserved this moment. But then she composed herself and went to eat with the other seventh years at their last breakfast.
When it came time for graduation, Minerva steadied herself. The witch was stunning, wearing an all white, lace gown and the ring Albus gave her on a chain around her neck. She loosely curled her hair, letting it flow around her, as she realized this would be one of the last celebrations in which she was truly youthful. With tartan robes to highlight her identity, Minerva was a force to be reckoned with. And rightfully so. She'd been chosen to give the commencement address to the graduates, and sitting awkwardly besides Tom and Headmaster Dippet at the High Table, looking out into the sea of graduates and family members, including her brothers and parents, Minerva began to speak.
"Thank you to Headmaster Dippet, parents, relatives, and friends celebrating the graduates today. Above all, congratulations to the Class of 1945. It is a great honor to speak here to all of you."
The witch continued, "As the Class of 1945, we've been through much tragedy and celebration together – we weathered the Great War, experienced the demise of Grindelwald, and above all, mourned the loss of our dear Professor Dumbledore - Albus."
Minerva had to stop as her voice cracked and many knowing members of the audience noticed. She composed herself and continued on, ending with, "Thank you all for these last seven years, for the friendships, the education, the illicit parties in the commons, the trips to Hogsmeade, and everything in between. Let us go out into the world, carrying with us the lessons that our dear professors imparted on us so well. I would like to end on some words of Professor Dumbledore's, the hero of the Wizarding World. He once told me…"
At that moment, Minerva felt a crackling in the air, a shift in her magic, as the doors to the Great Hall swung open. Minerva was confused as no one else could have broken through the wards besides Albus Dumbledore himself, unless? No, it couldn't be Albus.
It was him. He came home. Minerva had to be sure she wasn't hallucinating, but everyone else in the Great Hall gasped in shock as well. She stood helpless and alone at the High Table and he made his way towards her, ignoring the audience of hundreds below. Albus took slow, measured steps, eyes never leaving Minerva's, as she looked back with both confusion and excitement. It seemed as no one else in the room existed as she left her exalted spot in the room to meet him at the floor, in front of the table.
The two were mere inches apart and Minerva reached a singular, shaking hand to touch his face, to confirm it was her lover. To hell with what anyone thought at this point, she was graduated and he'd been presumed dead! "You're… alive? You're for real? You're here?"
Albus took both of her hands. "Yes, my dear. I've come home. I defeated Gellert-'' He paused, tears forming. "I mean Grindlewald. And I did it with you in my heart the entire time."