Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.


McGonagall gazed grimly around Dumbledore's office.

The enormous room which had belonged to the deceased Headmaster of Hogwarts felt so empty without him. She was no used to entering Dumbledore's private quarters to find no sign of him there. Over the years, McGonagall would often arrive at the office to find her eccentric superior there either reading magical text books, fawning over Fawkes - or just happily enjoying a packet of sherbet lemons.

She wished he was there. She needed his guidance more than ever for the battle that was about to unfold at the school. In all her years of experience at the school, fighting in a war against Voldemort and his Death Eaters was something McGonagall was not prepared for. It would probably seem a lot easier if the one wizard that the Dark Lord feared would be present - but that was impossible now that Dumbledore was dead.

And yet, she felt the need to communicate with him.

"Albus," McGonagall murmured. "Please speak to me."

A faint breeze suddenly passed through the office. Goosebumps covered the Head of Griffindor's wrinkled skin as she sensed she was no longer alone in the office. She slowly turned to look over her shoulder - and her gaze softened when she saw who was there.

"Hello, Minerva."

The ghost of Dumbledore was looming before her. His lips were curved upwards within his silvery white beard. He was smiling at the professor in his office who had been his deputy in running the school while he was alive - as well as his very close friend.

As she observed the spirit of her old acquaintance through her glasses, McGonagall felt her eyes becoming misty. She was glad none of the students were around to see her trying not to cry. Seeing her dead friend before her was very overwhelming for her.

"Albus…"

"I could tell that you came up here into my office to speak with me," Dumbledore murmured. "I take it you have not come for some advise on how to carry out your next transfiguration class?"

"Of course not!" McGonagall exclaimed, not sure whether to be impressed or not that Dumbledore had kept his sense of humour through death. "I need your help, Albus?"

"My help?"

"You know that there's a war coming! You-Know-Who and his Death Eaters are preparing to attack Hogwarts! He's coming to kill Harry Potter!"

"That I know," Dumbledore said softly.

"I don't know what to do, Albus! Without you here, I have no idea how to protect the students of this school! So many of them are going to be in the line of fire! There's no way of knowing what could happen to them! I need your help!"

"You don't need me, Minerva."

"What?!" McGonagall's eyes widened in disbelief over what Dumbledore had calmly told her. "Of course I need you, Albus! You're the only wizard that You-Know-Who feared!"

"I was." Dumbledore agreed. "But I cannot be in this war and protect this school anymore. It's all up to you…"

"But…" McGonagall stiffened, filled with dread about being responsible for the safety of the students who would be caught up in the battle. "I can't do it!"

"Of course you can."

McGonagall stared at Dumbledore. There was a warmth in the pale face of the ghost who was floating before her. It was the kind her old friend gave her whenever he was trying to support her.

"Whatever happens tonight, I know I can trust you to help our students in this war. I've watched you grow from a young age into a capable powerful witch, Minerva. There's no one I'd rather have watch over our students and show Voldemort what a mistake he'd be making by trying to attack Hogwarts. You can do it, Minerva. You're a true Griffindor to the end."

Dumbledore's encouraging words brought a smile to McGonagall's face. Even in death, he managed to give her the support she needed to look out for the students and help them in their battle against Voldemort. She placed a hand onto her chest, determined to live up to her bravery as the head of Griffindor.

"Thank you, Albus," she said gratefully. "I shall do my best to be a great leader like yourself."

"I know you shall," Dumbledore said warmly, "my dear old friend."

McGonagall brushed a tear from her eye before heading to the enchanted staircase, preparing to make her exit from the office.

"I'd better get to the Great Hall. Potter and his friends will be arriving at the castle soon."

"Oh before you go, Minerva, there's just one thing I need you to remember to do once the battle is over."

Stopping before the exit of the office, McGonagall turned to look once more towards Dumbledore - before frowning when she saw the cunning, crafty look on the bearded ghost's face.

"Should Harry defeat Voldemort and bring Hogwarts to victory in this battle, award ten million points to Gryffindor!" Dumbledore grinned. "It's only fair that they should win the house cup for that!"


The end.