"Please wake up," she whimpered softly, grateful for the empty castle so she for once did not have to act the calm and composed deputy headmistress. It had been three days and Albus showed no signs of waking up. She briefly glanced across to the other beds, all so spotlessly clean that anyone who didn't know would've never guessed that only two days ago the very same beds supported four of Hogwarts finest teachers. But none of them had been seriously injured, just a little wounded and very much in shock. Even she herself had been spared fatal injury. She pushed a lock of hair from off Albus's face. He, Severus and Harry had suffered the worst. The boy was now under the care of Molly Weasley, so she knew he was in good hands. He had the remaining of the school holidays to recover fully before term starts again. Severus, the old fool, had pleaded to her to let him return to his room. She had insisted on taking him to Poppy, but that man was stubborn. If only she had resisted a little more, then maybe...

"No, Minerva. You will not think about it," she said, a determined look on her face. She got up from the bedside and walked around in a useless attempt to try and clear her head. She had managed to block it out as much as possible, but sometimes the images manage to find their way back to her. It was times like this when she needed Albus's wisdom and humor. And friendship.

"Albus wake up," she cried, and shook him hard, risking the wrath of the mediwitch, if she should so happen walk in that moment. But she didn't. Instead someone else did.

"He still hasn't woken up?" said a deep voice behind her. She twirled around and had to restrain herself from bolting. Minerva McGonagall never ran from trouble. She already hated this feeling of cowardice taking over her senses, she refused to strengthen the feeling by running away as well.

"Severus, what are you doing here? You should be in bed," she said, her tone brusque and impersonal once again. The potions master went to stand beside her, his eyes full of sorrow as he looked at the motionless headmaster.

"I've slept enough hours to make up for six months of insomnia," he replied dryly.

"But you're hurt," she argued back. His lethargy was evident in his dull eyes, and more so, she just wanted to be alone again with her feelings.

"So are you. More so than me," he replied, fixing his dark eyes onto her blue ones. She tried to stare back but for once she lacked the energy to challenge him. So, she walked away and stood in front of the window, gazing into the night. He followed her.

"I wasn't so knocked out that I didn't realize the shield you set up to protect me... and the others," he said softly.

"I had help," she said, but didn't look at him.

"Who dropped off one by one. You were the last one standing. So don't tell me you're fine," he said, his tone suddenly angry. She looked at him startled at such emotions. But then again, has the potions master ever felt anything but anger?

"But I couldn't protect Albus," she said, her voice cracking without her meaning it too. Under his penetrating gaze, the last of her defense was crumbling and soon he would see that she wasn't so strong after all.

"You tried; he was too strong for you. If Albus and Harry hadn't interfered, he would have killed you," reasoned Severus, his angry tone replaced by a more compassionate tone, totally alien to the Potions Master but Minerva knew he was right. She did all she could. What had happened was off no fault of her own.

"How about you Severus? The Cruciatus curse is no laughing matter either," she said wanting to change the subject away from her.

"Only cuts and bruises, and extreme muscle sores. Thank you for tending to it," he said. He showed no hint that he remembered what else she had tended too. Somehow, that didn't make her feel better which of course made no sense and therefore causing her to be even more confused.

"I didn't think you were aware," she said sadly.

"I was very aware," he answered in such a way that made her retract her thoughts. She turned to him but this time it was he who wouldn't look at her.

"And did you remember..." she couldn't continue. Was she insane to bring it up? He turned to her, his eyes narrowed.

"What? What else should I have remembered?" he asked looking at her questioningly and she read in his confused eyes that he didn't know. She decided in that second she won't be reminding him, she wasn't ready to talk about it yet.

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing," she replied. She sighed and rested her palms against the windowpane, which turned out to be a bad idea. Severus grabbed her hand staring for a while at them.

"Minerva, what's this?" he demanded his tone angrier than before. Her knuckles were bandaged and there were still tinges of blood on it. He grabbed the other hand. It was the same. Obviously some poor wall was suffering from the punches Minerva had no doubt showered upon it. From the injury Severus knew it had been hard poundings.

"Minerva, of all the stupid, childish..." he began but she cut him off. She jerked her hands away from his, wincing at the pain, which could have been solved by a simple healing charm, but for some perversed reason, Minerva welcomed the pain.

"I know, practical and sensible Minerva succumbing to such primitive feeling," she said mockingly.

"Well, I have feelings too Severus and I feel anger, just like you. And sometimes, I do act on it!" she hissed. She turned away from him but Severus read the hopelessness in her that his anger dissolved away. For all their rivalry and arguments, they were on the same side and if she needed it, he would help.

"What else did you do to yourself, Minerva?" he asked softly looking past her face; he could see she was still suffering some emotional pain and didn't want to provoke her currently fragile feelings.

"Nothing," she replied sourly but refused to meet his eyes. In one movement, he knocked her hat off her head. Black hair came tumbling down to her shoulders. Her shoulders. She had cut her hair. Butchered was more like it. The ends were jagged and uneven, the hair coarse.

"Minerva," he breathed. What had she done to herself? She looked at him defiantly. Any trace of the sensible deputy headmistress gone, at that moment her eyes had an unnatural gleam in it.

"Yes, I cut my hair. Be glad I didn't ram the scissors into my chest," she spat. Severus panicked a little. This wasn't the Minerva he knew talking. This was a woman possessed by the devil. He grabbed her shoulders and shook her roughly.

"Snap out of it woman!" he yelled to her face and roughly slapped her cheek. She flinched and to her utmost horror, the hysterics died away and her eyes began to tear.

"Minerva it's over," he said again, no longer screaming.

"But at the cost of so many lives!" she yelled back, and broke into loud sobs. Severus wasn't prepared to see someone so tough break down. But then again, he had seen a lot these past days that he wasn't prepared for. He wrapped her in his arms, and stroked her hair. He'd get one of the female professors to fix her hair, saying nothing as she sobbed into his chest. He didn't even mention that it was his favorite shirt she was soaking with her tears. He'll just send her his laundry bill. Neither noticed a slight stirring coming from the bed.

"Severus, are you bullying my deputy?" a weak voice spoke up from behind them.