It was an uneven battle. That Albus realized as he ran to and fro, trying to protect the children as much as he could whilst trying to cast as many curses as possible. He was breathing heavily- a cut in his right cheek had stained his deep red robes with brownish blood. He did his best- he knew he could not possibly run faster or cast quicker- but he also know that it was not enough.
And when, after perhaps two hours of constant, desperate battle, the door of the biggest tent opened and a tall, cloaked figure came out, he couldn't suppress a sigh.
Voldemort.
Taller than ever, paler than ever, more triumphant than ever. He had gotten his body back three years earlier- and vaguely, very vaguely, Albus recognized in those cold, brown-reddish eyes something of the young boy he had once taught. As a broad, snake-like grin enfolded on his lips, he knew that it wasn't Tom Riddle, though. It was Lord Voldemort.
And that was an important difference.
Behind Voldemort stood a tall, womanly figure. Her long, black, hair fell down her back, over her long, grey dress. She looked older than the last time he'd seen her- and much, much older than the student he had once thought, but she was still considerably pretty and Albus recognized her immediately. Bellatrix Lestrange-Black.
Albus saw them- but he was too far away for them to notice, and with horror he saw them, slowly, walk closer to the spot where Harry was fighting for his life with a tall Death Eater- Lucius Malfoy, to be more exact.
He knew he could run and try to save him- but he also knew that it would be useless. An Avada Kedavra spell was still quicker than a running man…
"Avada…"
Albus heard it- didn't want to hear it, but he did, and started running despite his previous thoughts. Not Harry… never Harry!
"Ked…"
But a voice, a very familiar, well-known, low but pleasant voice interrupted him. Her Scottish brogue was obvious, and Albus didn't have to look up to realize who it was.
"Tom, stop bothering an innocent child. Here stands the one you've been wanting all along."
Albus was frozen, though, and out of the corners of his eyes, he saw Voldemort had the very same reaction. The battlefield was suddenly unusually quiet- as all, almost automatically, looked up, and saw…
There, standing on the low roof of Hagrid's hut, a dark green cloak around her and her long, black, loose hair billowing in the wind, stood no-one less than Minerva Jean McGonagall.
But not all immediately realized that. Voldemort did, and Albus did, and the students did but, according to Hermione Granger's short, sharp cry, they also realized something else- and it was for that reason, that some of the Death Eaters looked as if they had just seen a ghost.
For in a way, they had.
There were many portraits of the Founders of Hogwarts, many painters had used them as a source of inspiration, but not one of them had ever found as good a model as Minerva McGonagall would have been. Because- though no-one else before had really realized it…
Rowena Ravenclaw was standing atop of Hagrid's Hut.
The Dark Lord was the first one to speak.
"M- Minerva?" he uttered, voice still overflowing with self-confidence and yet not quite veiling his surprise.
The woman on the rooftop- Minerva and Rowena in one- mockingly arched her dark eyebrows.
She laughed a bitter laugh as she threw her cloak away. She was wearing a dark blue dress, long, with a very wide skirt. A medieval dress.
"Yes, Tom, Minerva. Are you surprised to see me? Well, you should be glad- you came to get me and here I am. Catch me if you can."
Albus closed his eyes for a moment as he, protectively, rested a hand on Harry's shoulder. Why did she have to be so damn- brave?
Voldemort did not move, though.
"Well? Tom? Shall I tell our story then, my love?"
The last word, love, had come out more as an insult than as a compliment. But Albus knew how much it must have hurt her to pronounce it. Because she had loved Tom Riddle. Truly- entirely.
In a way she still did.
"What story, McGonagall?" Voldemort snapped- in an attempt to seem disdainful and superior, probably. He failed horribly.
Minerva smiled.
"So this is the time to tell it, isn't it? I have wondered about it for many years. Harry-"
She suddenly turned towards the boy who was still standing beside her husband. He looked pale and bruised, but he nodded.
"Yes- Professor?" he almost whispered, his throat dry.
"This is your story, my boy."
Minerva's voice had gone from pride, over contempt, to softly spoken, ancient worry now. And for some reason- every single person who was standing there, looking up to her, on the lawns of Hogwarts, listened- as if they were children, listening to their grandmother's fairytales.
"It is an old tale to tell- but I will tell it. I was younger than you when I found out about it…"
After a moment's silence, she began.
"Long ago, Rowena Ravenclaw was loved by two men. The first one was Salazar Slytherin- the second was another Founder- Godric Gryffindor. She-"
She sighed.
"Rowena loved them both. She first lived with Salazar for a while, but ultimately she chose for Godric and married him. They got one child together- Roderica, born months after her father's murder by Slytherin. Immediately after his death, a Prophecy was made."
She smiled at Harry- but it was a sad smile.
"A Prophecy far greater and more important than the one which you found out two years ago. This one told about something that would come to pass a thousand years after the events. History would repeat itself, Harry."
Minerva closed her eyes. This was the worst part.
But after a deep breath, she continued.
"The Heiress of Ravenclaw would love both the Heir of Gryffindor and the Heir of Slytherin. She would choose Gryffindor in the end. That's what I did."
Only slowly, very slowly, the first, rational thought came seeping into Harry's mind. Was this woman, his Professor, formidable, respectable Professor Minerva McGonagall really trying to say what he thought she was?
Minerva's dark green eyes met his, and slowly she nodded.
"I fell in love with Tom in 7th year. I was in love with Albus, who was my Professor by then, too, but I thought we could never be together. Tom and I lived together for three years- then I left him for Albus."
It was a very short summary of what had been the core of her very life. It seemed so ridiculous to recapitulate those so important facts in barely more than two sentences…
But she had to do it this way.
She noticed Voldemort grow even paler, and he narrowed his eyes as if he wanted to say something- but he didn't and slowly, she went on.
"I and Professor Dumbledore are both descendants of Roderica Gryffindor- yet we married, some months later. James was born shortly afterwards."
This, she knew, was a statement she had to let sink it. She almost smiled as all kinds of different- opposite- emotions showed on his face at the same time. And yet she didn't.
"You- you…"
Harry tried to regain his breath, barely managing to. Albus had to support the young man- it had been quite a shock after all…
"You are my grandparents!"
Minerva seemed to think for a moment…-"You", he had said…- then nodded, a grave expression still on her face.
"Yes, Harry. I am your grandmother."
"But why…"
"Why I then left you at the Dursley's? You needed the protection of your mother's blood, Harry. But that all doesn't matter now. Because, now you know this, you can understand the next part of the Prophecy."
She turned away from Harry- towards Voldemort, in an almost threatening manner. Catch me if you can indeed…
"There is also word about a young boy- an Heir- who will unite through blood lines the Heirs of Ravenclaw and Gryffindor, and also of Helga Hufflepuff- the somewhat lesser-known Founder who married a muggle. This boy is the only possible weapon to use against the avenging Heir of Slytherin. Only his power and the powers of the three remaining Heirs can shield the world against the Power of the Snake."
She very literally, very dryly repeated the words she had once read, long ago- the words that had changed her life and would change the ones of everyone who heard them.
Especially of the one who was her grandson, and who now finally knew why Lord Voldemort had been after him all his life. She expressed her feelings in words in her next sentence.
"You are that Heir, Harry. Voldemort is after me because he loves me and doesn't know what love means anymore, but he is after you out of fear. I don't know which of the two is more despicable."
She looked again at the tall, black-cloaked figure who was supposed to be the Dark Lord. She couldn't help it, but her dark, green eyes filled with tears as they looked into his. He still was silent.
Oh yes, he loved her. And she loved him, but it was all too late.
It was all over and dealt with long ago.
It took Harry a while to arrange his thoughts. No-one moved- not even the Death Eaters- not even Lord Voldemort himself.
"But- but who then is the Heiress of Hufflepuff?"
Minerva smiled. He knew the answer- who else could it be?
Helga Hufflepuff, that founder with her fiery, red hair, had married a muggle, after all.
"You know, Harry. You know. And only now, now everybody knows everything, now this can become truly the Last Battle, not some useless slaughtering."
Voldemort laughed, suddenly his own, self-confident self again.
"You think you'll win, don't you, Minerva? Tom Riddle did perhaps once love you- but he was weak. I am strong. Friends and allies- attack! Kill all- but keep the slut on the roof alive!"
Minerva smiled, though- a surprisingly carefree smiling for a woman who was about to throw herself into a fight of seven against at least a hundred.
It was the smile of Rowena Ravenclaw, so long ago.
She knew what to do- and before the attacking Death Eaters could even grab one of her legs to pull her off the roof, she had already extended her long, pale arms towards the sky. In a voice that was no longer her own, she yelled
"Godric Gryffindor, Power of the Lion, be there when I call for you!"
Albus looked at her, mouth wide open- and all of a sudden, he couldn't worry about her anymore. A strange light- looking much like a lion- surrounded him, and he felt himself being lifted up and placed between Harry and Voldemort.
"Rowena Ravenclaw, Power of the Eagle, be there when I call for you!"
With a strangely joyous, contented feeling inside, she felt the large, blue eagle she'd expected come towards her. She grabbed its wings and flew- until she stood next to her husband, who laid his hand on her shoulder and softly squeezed it.
"Minerva…" he softly began, but she shook her head and closed her eyes.
This was it.
This had to work.
"Helga Hufflepuff, Power of the Badger, be there when I call for you!"
Harry Potter needed the support of the four students next to him- he would have fainted right away, as in the distance, far away, he noticed a moving object.
Two moving- creatures- looking equally ghost-like- and somehow, equally kind as well.
"Mother!"
It was Lily Potter- sitting side-saddle on the back of a large, yellow badger. She looked surprisingly young, beautiful- and she smiled and nodded.
"Yes, Harry." she muttered, as she took her place between the older wizard and witch. She then grabbed their hands- and as soon as their fingers touched, the lion, eagle and badger whirled together into a white cloud. It flew over their heads back to Harry, and Minerva spoke, although there was more sadness than joy on her face
"Harry, do it."
"Salazar Slytherin, Power of the Snake, be there when I call for you!" Voldemort yelled, desperately waving his wand in the air- and indeed, a large, green snake came.
But as it, too, collided in the white cloud behind Harry, the Dark Lord looked as if he could faint every single second. His narrow, reddish eyes grew bigger and bigger as he tried to utter words- words that were incapable to express anything… He looked at Minerva- who could not but not.
"Do it, Harry."
And as Harry uttered the two, crucial words, he could swear that not three, but four voices echoed them behind him- coming out of the cloud.
"Avada Kedavra!"
And it was over.
And when, after perhaps two hours of constant, desperate battle, the door of the biggest tent opened and a tall, cloaked figure came out, he couldn't suppress a sigh.
Voldemort.
Taller than ever, paler than ever, more triumphant than ever. He had gotten his body back three years earlier- and vaguely, very vaguely, Albus recognized in those cold, brown-reddish eyes something of the young boy he had once taught. As a broad, snake-like grin enfolded on his lips, he knew that it wasn't Tom Riddle, though. It was Lord Voldemort.
And that was an important difference.
Behind Voldemort stood a tall, womanly figure. Her long, black, hair fell down her back, over her long, grey dress. She looked older than the last time he'd seen her- and much, much older than the student he had once thought, but she was still considerably pretty and Albus recognized her immediately. Bellatrix Lestrange-Black.
Albus saw them- but he was too far away for them to notice, and with horror he saw them, slowly, walk closer to the spot where Harry was fighting for his life with a tall Death Eater- Lucius Malfoy, to be more exact.
He knew he could run and try to save him- but he also knew that it would be useless. An Avada Kedavra spell was still quicker than a running man…
"Avada…"
Albus heard it- didn't want to hear it, but he did, and started running despite his previous thoughts. Not Harry… never Harry!
"Ked…"
But a voice, a very familiar, well-known, low but pleasant voice interrupted him. Her Scottish brogue was obvious, and Albus didn't have to look up to realize who it was.
"Tom, stop bothering an innocent child. Here stands the one you've been wanting all along."
Albus was frozen, though, and out of the corners of his eyes, he saw Voldemort had the very same reaction. The battlefield was suddenly unusually quiet- as all, almost automatically, looked up, and saw…
There, standing on the low roof of Hagrid's hut, a dark green cloak around her and her long, black, loose hair billowing in the wind, stood no-one less than Minerva Jean McGonagall.
But not all immediately realized that. Voldemort did, and Albus did, and the students did but, according to Hermione Granger's short, sharp cry, they also realized something else- and it was for that reason, that some of the Death Eaters looked as if they had just seen a ghost.
For in a way, they had.
There were many portraits of the Founders of Hogwarts, many painters had used them as a source of inspiration, but not one of them had ever found as good a model as Minerva McGonagall would have been. Because- though no-one else before had really realized it…
Rowena Ravenclaw was standing atop of Hagrid's Hut.
The Dark Lord was the first one to speak.
"M- Minerva?" he uttered, voice still overflowing with self-confidence and yet not quite veiling his surprise.
The woman on the rooftop- Minerva and Rowena in one- mockingly arched her dark eyebrows.
She laughed a bitter laugh as she threw her cloak away. She was wearing a dark blue dress, long, with a very wide skirt. A medieval dress.
"Yes, Tom, Minerva. Are you surprised to see me? Well, you should be glad- you came to get me and here I am. Catch me if you can."
Albus closed his eyes for a moment as he, protectively, rested a hand on Harry's shoulder. Why did she have to be so damn- brave?
Voldemort did not move, though.
"Well? Tom? Shall I tell our story then, my love?"
The last word, love, had come out more as an insult than as a compliment. But Albus knew how much it must have hurt her to pronounce it. Because she had loved Tom Riddle. Truly- entirely.
In a way she still did.
"What story, McGonagall?" Voldemort snapped- in an attempt to seem disdainful and superior, probably. He failed horribly.
Minerva smiled.
"So this is the time to tell it, isn't it? I have wondered about it for many years. Harry-"
She suddenly turned towards the boy who was still standing beside her husband. He looked pale and bruised, but he nodded.
"Yes- Professor?" he almost whispered, his throat dry.
"This is your story, my boy."
Minerva's voice had gone from pride, over contempt, to softly spoken, ancient worry now. And for some reason- every single person who was standing there, looking up to her, on the lawns of Hogwarts, listened- as if they were children, listening to their grandmother's fairytales.
"It is an old tale to tell- but I will tell it. I was younger than you when I found out about it…"
After a moment's silence, she began.
"Long ago, Rowena Ravenclaw was loved by two men. The first one was Salazar Slytherin- the second was another Founder- Godric Gryffindor. She-"
She sighed.
"Rowena loved them both. She first lived with Salazar for a while, but ultimately she chose for Godric and married him. They got one child together- Roderica, born months after her father's murder by Slytherin. Immediately after his death, a Prophecy was made."
She smiled at Harry- but it was a sad smile.
"A Prophecy far greater and more important than the one which you found out two years ago. This one told about something that would come to pass a thousand years after the events. History would repeat itself, Harry."
Minerva closed her eyes. This was the worst part.
But after a deep breath, she continued.
"The Heiress of Ravenclaw would love both the Heir of Gryffindor and the Heir of Slytherin. She would choose Gryffindor in the end. That's what I did."
Only slowly, very slowly, the first, rational thought came seeping into Harry's mind. Was this woman, his Professor, formidable, respectable Professor Minerva McGonagall really trying to say what he thought she was?
Minerva's dark green eyes met his, and slowly she nodded.
"I fell in love with Tom in 7th year. I was in love with Albus, who was my Professor by then, too, but I thought we could never be together. Tom and I lived together for three years- then I left him for Albus."
It was a very short summary of what had been the core of her very life. It seemed so ridiculous to recapitulate those so important facts in barely more than two sentences…
But she had to do it this way.
She noticed Voldemort grow even paler, and he narrowed his eyes as if he wanted to say something- but he didn't and slowly, she went on.
"I and Professor Dumbledore are both descendants of Roderica Gryffindor- yet we married, some months later. James was born shortly afterwards."
This, she knew, was a statement she had to let sink it. She almost smiled as all kinds of different- opposite- emotions showed on his face at the same time. And yet she didn't.
"You- you…"
Harry tried to regain his breath, barely managing to. Albus had to support the young man- it had been quite a shock after all…
"You are my grandparents!"
Minerva seemed to think for a moment…-"You", he had said…- then nodded, a grave expression still on her face.
"Yes, Harry. I am your grandmother."
"But why…"
"Why I then left you at the Dursley's? You needed the protection of your mother's blood, Harry. But that all doesn't matter now. Because, now you know this, you can understand the next part of the Prophecy."
She turned away from Harry- towards Voldemort, in an almost threatening manner. Catch me if you can indeed…
"There is also word about a young boy- an Heir- who will unite through blood lines the Heirs of Ravenclaw and Gryffindor, and also of Helga Hufflepuff- the somewhat lesser-known Founder who married a muggle. This boy is the only possible weapon to use against the avenging Heir of Slytherin. Only his power and the powers of the three remaining Heirs can shield the world against the Power of the Snake."
She very literally, very dryly repeated the words she had once read, long ago- the words that had changed her life and would change the ones of everyone who heard them.
Especially of the one who was her grandson, and who now finally knew why Lord Voldemort had been after him all his life. She expressed her feelings in words in her next sentence.
"You are that Heir, Harry. Voldemort is after me because he loves me and doesn't know what love means anymore, but he is after you out of fear. I don't know which of the two is more despicable."
She looked again at the tall, black-cloaked figure who was supposed to be the Dark Lord. She couldn't help it, but her dark, green eyes filled with tears as they looked into his. He still was silent.
Oh yes, he loved her. And she loved him, but it was all too late.
It was all over and dealt with long ago.
It took Harry a while to arrange his thoughts. No-one moved- not even the Death Eaters- not even Lord Voldemort himself.
"But- but who then is the Heiress of Hufflepuff?"
Minerva smiled. He knew the answer- who else could it be?
Helga Hufflepuff, that founder with her fiery, red hair, had married a muggle, after all.
"You know, Harry. You know. And only now, now everybody knows everything, now this can become truly the Last Battle, not some useless slaughtering."
Voldemort laughed, suddenly his own, self-confident self again.
"You think you'll win, don't you, Minerva? Tom Riddle did perhaps once love you- but he was weak. I am strong. Friends and allies- attack! Kill all- but keep the slut on the roof alive!"
Minerva smiled, though- a surprisingly carefree smiling for a woman who was about to throw herself into a fight of seven against at least a hundred.
It was the smile of Rowena Ravenclaw, so long ago.
She knew what to do- and before the attacking Death Eaters could even grab one of her legs to pull her off the roof, she had already extended her long, pale arms towards the sky. In a voice that was no longer her own, she yelled
"Godric Gryffindor, Power of the Lion, be there when I call for you!"
Albus looked at her, mouth wide open- and all of a sudden, he couldn't worry about her anymore. A strange light- looking much like a lion- surrounded him, and he felt himself being lifted up and placed between Harry and Voldemort.
"Rowena Ravenclaw, Power of the Eagle, be there when I call for you!"
With a strangely joyous, contented feeling inside, she felt the large, blue eagle she'd expected come towards her. She grabbed its wings and flew- until she stood next to her husband, who laid his hand on her shoulder and softly squeezed it.
"Minerva…" he softly began, but she shook her head and closed her eyes.
This was it.
This had to work.
"Helga Hufflepuff, Power of the Badger, be there when I call for you!"
Harry Potter needed the support of the four students next to him- he would have fainted right away, as in the distance, far away, he noticed a moving object.
Two moving- creatures- looking equally ghost-like- and somehow, equally kind as well.
"Mother!"
It was Lily Potter- sitting side-saddle on the back of a large, yellow badger. She looked surprisingly young, beautiful- and she smiled and nodded.
"Yes, Harry." she muttered, as she took her place between the older wizard and witch. She then grabbed their hands- and as soon as their fingers touched, the lion, eagle and badger whirled together into a white cloud. It flew over their heads back to Harry, and Minerva spoke, although there was more sadness than joy on her face
"Harry, do it."
"Salazar Slytherin, Power of the Snake, be there when I call for you!" Voldemort yelled, desperately waving his wand in the air- and indeed, a large, green snake came.
But as it, too, collided in the white cloud behind Harry, the Dark Lord looked as if he could faint every single second. His narrow, reddish eyes grew bigger and bigger as he tried to utter words- words that were incapable to express anything… He looked at Minerva- who could not but not.
"Do it, Harry."
And as Harry uttered the two, crucial words, he could swear that not three, but four voices echoed them behind him- coming out of the cloud.
"Avada Kedavra!"
And it was over.