Chapter Two: The Death In His Eyes
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The wizards and witches obeyed her immediately- of course, who else had they to obey? The Minister of Magic was dead. Cornelius Fudge had perhaps made many mistakes during his life, and Minerva had to admit that she had never liked him, yet he had died the death of a hero. There had been more bravery in that clumsy little Hufflepuff he'd once been than Minerva had ever thought imaginable.
Perhaps this had been the best for him. Fudge had never been an evil man, but this, this dealing with the aftermath, would have been too much for him. Especially since Albus…
At this thought, Minerva closed her eyes for a moment and bit her lips.
Albus wasn't dead yet. He was still alive, and he was now being levitated to the castle. There, Poppy would certainly find a…
But she knew she was soothing herself with lies.
She had read the death in his eyes.
With this thought in her mind, she entered the Hospital Wing, where Madam Pomfrey was pacing back and forth between multiple beds. There were lots of Healers- from St. Mungo's, Minerva guessed. But here weren't really many wounded, Minerva noticed. It was no surprise, of course.
Avada Kedavra killed immediately, killed ruthlessly. And luckily, it killed painlessly as well.
Yet that was hardly a comfort.
As Poppy, dark red blushes on her cheeks, noticed her friend, she beckoned. Minerva, slowly, walked between the beds, here and there recognizing people. When she stood before her friend, the Mediwitch sighed.
"Albus." she then just said, leading Minerva to the corridor again. As soon as they were alone, she flung her arms around her much taller friend's shoulders.
"Minnie, I am so sorry…"
Minerva sighed, yet managed to smile and gently released herself from her friend's embrace.
"Don't be, Poppy. And please- please don't start crying, or I will start as well and I don't want to."
Madam Pomfrey soundly swallowed, yet blew her nose in a large handkerchief, and faintly smiled.
"Alright. Minerva, but before we enter, I have to tell you-"
Yet Minerva bitterly chuckled and interrupted her friend.
"You cannot heal him, Poppy. I know."
"I am so sorry, Minerva!" Madam Pomfrey repeated, as she, despite her promise, wiped a few tears away from her cheek.
"I wished I could save him, but I can't. You-Know-Who has used an ancient draining spell on him. Very old dark magic. There is no counterspell."
"I know." Minerva repeated.
Yes, she knew, but despite everything, she couldn't keep herself from hoping.
Wasn't Albus the most powerful wizard of this time? Wasn't the fact that he still was alive a good sign?
No it was not. Of course it was not.
That's what draining spells are about, you idiot.
Yet, as if to silence her mind, she fiercely exclaimed
"Albus may die one day, but this is not that day!"
Poppy comfortingly rested a hand on her friend's shoulder, and nodded, but there was no hope left in her eyes.
"I hope with you, Minerva. I do so hope with you… Now follow me to Albus. I have put him in a separate room, so he can at least have some privacy. It's in here…"
She opened a door, and Minerva's hope disappeared like melting snow.
He wouldn't heal.
As she saw her husband there, looking so very small in that large bed, looking almost as pale as the white sheets, awake, but his eyes hardly opened, she knew that this was it.
He wouldn't heal.
Yet, she gritted her teeth and walked forward. As she lightly sat down on the sheets, she squeezed his hand.
"Albus?"
"Minerva." he recalled, forcing a smile upon his lips, not at all convincing her. His voice was barely more than a whisper. He sounded tired. So very, very tired…
"Minerva, do you remember what I told you, out there?"
"Yes."
"I am dying, Minerva." he spoke, honestly.
"I know." she muttered, not daring to look him in the eyes. She, the so-called brave Head of Gryffindor, was scared of looking her own husband in the eyes. But it was the truth. She feared the death she'd read in them. Yet, impulsively, almost desperately, she exclaimed
"What should I do, Albus? Tell me what to do! Listen, you know that-"
She swallowed and then nodded again, calmly. What she was about to say was the truth. The utter, complete truth.
"You know, Albus," she slowly repeated, looking into his light, blue eyes, now so heavy with pain. "You know that I would follow you if you asked me to. In fact, it's all I want. To follow you where you are going, behind the borders of life."
Albus slightly chuckled. Minerva raised her eyebrows.
"I am serious, Albus."
The man in the bed nodded and squeezed her hand.
"I know." he then spoke seriously. "I know you are, my dear. And I wished it was possible- I wished we could go together as we've lived together, but Hogwarts needs you. I need you to become Headmistress, Minerva."
He tried to sit up in bed, yet had to lie down again with a painful look on his face.
"Lead Hogwarts through the times that are coming. Lead it, not as I have lead it, but as you want to lead it."
She bitterly smiled and laid her hand on his cheek.
"As if that would not be the way you've lead it."
The man chuckled.
"You are loyal as always, my dear, but I am serious. Lead Hogwarts. Lead our children. And- and Minerva, they will ask you to become Minister of Magic…"
"I do not want to become Minister of Magic!"
"I know. Make sure Arthur Weasley is appointed. He is the man they need now. Help him with his task. Learn our world how to live without them, without us…"
Minerva sincerely nodded and bravely smiled.
"If that is what you want."
"And then… and then come too me."
The tears in his eyes were too much for her.
"Albus, I don't want you to die!" she exclaimed as she felt tears on her cheeks.
"Why… why…"
The man in the bed laboriously stretched out his hand and gently laid it against her wet cheek.
"Because, Minerva."
=======================================
The wizards and witches obeyed her immediately- of course, who else had they to obey? The Minister of Magic was dead. Cornelius Fudge had perhaps made many mistakes during his life, and Minerva had to admit that she had never liked him, yet he had died the death of a hero. There had been more bravery in that clumsy little Hufflepuff he'd once been than Minerva had ever thought imaginable.
Perhaps this had been the best for him. Fudge had never been an evil man, but this, this dealing with the aftermath, would have been too much for him. Especially since Albus…
At this thought, Minerva closed her eyes for a moment and bit her lips.
Albus wasn't dead yet. He was still alive, and he was now being levitated to the castle. There, Poppy would certainly find a…
But she knew she was soothing herself with lies.
She had read the death in his eyes.
With this thought in her mind, she entered the Hospital Wing, where Madam Pomfrey was pacing back and forth between multiple beds. There were lots of Healers- from St. Mungo's, Minerva guessed. But here weren't really many wounded, Minerva noticed. It was no surprise, of course.
Avada Kedavra killed immediately, killed ruthlessly. And luckily, it killed painlessly as well.
Yet that was hardly a comfort.
As Poppy, dark red blushes on her cheeks, noticed her friend, she beckoned. Minerva, slowly, walked between the beds, here and there recognizing people. When she stood before her friend, the Mediwitch sighed.
"Albus." she then just said, leading Minerva to the corridor again. As soon as they were alone, she flung her arms around her much taller friend's shoulders.
"Minnie, I am so sorry…"
Minerva sighed, yet managed to smile and gently released herself from her friend's embrace.
"Don't be, Poppy. And please- please don't start crying, or I will start as well and I don't want to."
Madam Pomfrey soundly swallowed, yet blew her nose in a large handkerchief, and faintly smiled.
"Alright. Minerva, but before we enter, I have to tell you-"
Yet Minerva bitterly chuckled and interrupted her friend.
"You cannot heal him, Poppy. I know."
"I am so sorry, Minerva!" Madam Pomfrey repeated, as she, despite her promise, wiped a few tears away from her cheek.
"I wished I could save him, but I can't. You-Know-Who has used an ancient draining spell on him. Very old dark magic. There is no counterspell."
"I know." Minerva repeated.
Yes, she knew, but despite everything, she couldn't keep herself from hoping.
Wasn't Albus the most powerful wizard of this time? Wasn't the fact that he still was alive a good sign?
No it was not. Of course it was not.
That's what draining spells are about, you idiot.
Yet, as if to silence her mind, she fiercely exclaimed
"Albus may die one day, but this is not that day!"
Poppy comfortingly rested a hand on her friend's shoulder, and nodded, but there was no hope left in her eyes.
"I hope with you, Minerva. I do so hope with you… Now follow me to Albus. I have put him in a separate room, so he can at least have some privacy. It's in here…"
She opened a door, and Minerva's hope disappeared like melting snow.
He wouldn't heal.
As she saw her husband there, looking so very small in that large bed, looking almost as pale as the white sheets, awake, but his eyes hardly opened, she knew that this was it.
He wouldn't heal.
Yet, she gritted her teeth and walked forward. As she lightly sat down on the sheets, she squeezed his hand.
"Albus?"
"Minerva." he recalled, forcing a smile upon his lips, not at all convincing her. His voice was barely more than a whisper. He sounded tired. So very, very tired…
"Minerva, do you remember what I told you, out there?"
"Yes."
"I am dying, Minerva." he spoke, honestly.
"I know." she muttered, not daring to look him in the eyes. She, the so-called brave Head of Gryffindor, was scared of looking her own husband in the eyes. But it was the truth. She feared the death she'd read in them. Yet, impulsively, almost desperately, she exclaimed
"What should I do, Albus? Tell me what to do! Listen, you know that-"
She swallowed and then nodded again, calmly. What she was about to say was the truth. The utter, complete truth.
"You know, Albus," she slowly repeated, looking into his light, blue eyes, now so heavy with pain. "You know that I would follow you if you asked me to. In fact, it's all I want. To follow you where you are going, behind the borders of life."
Albus slightly chuckled. Minerva raised her eyebrows.
"I am serious, Albus."
The man in the bed nodded and squeezed her hand.
"I know." he then spoke seriously. "I know you are, my dear. And I wished it was possible- I wished we could go together as we've lived together, but Hogwarts needs you. I need you to become Headmistress, Minerva."
He tried to sit up in bed, yet had to lie down again with a painful look on his face.
"Lead Hogwarts through the times that are coming. Lead it, not as I have lead it, but as you want to lead it."
She bitterly smiled and laid her hand on his cheek.
"As if that would not be the way you've lead it."
The man chuckled.
"You are loyal as always, my dear, but I am serious. Lead Hogwarts. Lead our children. And- and Minerva, they will ask you to become Minister of Magic…"
"I do not want to become Minister of Magic!"
"I know. Make sure Arthur Weasley is appointed. He is the man they need now. Help him with his task. Learn our world how to live without them, without us…"
Minerva sincerely nodded and bravely smiled.
"If that is what you want."
"And then… and then come too me."
The tears in his eyes were too much for her.
"Albus, I don't want you to die!" she exclaimed as she felt tears on her cheeks.
"Why… why…"
The man in the bed laboriously stretched out his hand and gently laid it against her wet cheek.
"Because, Minerva."