Chapter Five: The Cup And The Cocoa
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Minerva McGonagall woke up the next morning in a bed too large for her alone, in sheets too cold for her alone, in a room too empty for her alone. And only then, as she felt the first rays of the still raising sun on her cheeks, as she opened her eyes and looked, right there on her bedside table, straight into the loving blue eyes of the person who had been -no, was!- her husband, Minerva realized that she'd not just lost Albus, but that she'd lost a part of herself as well.
A certain emptiness, a feeling of uselessness, had crept into her heart as Albus Dumbledore had closed his eyes for the very last time, and she knew it would not go away. Oh yes, even the worst pain faded in the end, perhaps, but what she felt went far beyond just pain.
Albus had been everything to her.
And so in the end, she, Minerva McGonagall, proud, independent Minerva, had not been independent after all. She had depended on Albus.
Albus still was everything to her.
And this pain would never fade.
Yet, slowly, feeling every movement scratch straight into her heart, Minerva got out of bed and dragged herself to the bathroom. She didn't enter, though, for she knew very well she'd collapse again at the sight of his empty cup. That was, by the way, exactly how she felt. An empty cup.
She'd never really liked hot cocoa the way Albus had.
Yet.
She had been the cup and he'd been her cocoa.
So, she sat down on the couch instead. She cried nonetheless.
But she had to be strong. Minerva took her large, tartan handkerchief- oh, hadn't Albus always made fun of those handkerchiefs of hers? Albus!- and carefully dabbed her eyes.
He hadn't wanted her to cry, to yell, to get hysterical and to abandon the school.
He had wanted her to be the strong, honest, fair Minerva he had known. He had wanted her to be *his* Minerva.
For the school's sake.
They had never had children, the Headmaster and his Deputy Headmistress, but they'd always addressed Hogwarts as "their daughter". They hadn't known why they'd always called it their daughter, and not their son, but after all, that didn't matter.
Hogwarts was their, Albus' and Minerva's, very own baby, a half-orphan now.
And Minerva couldn't let her only child down.
For it was all of Albus she still had left.
She sobbed, yet immediately determinedly shook her head.
No. No, that was not true. She still held a part of him, the way he had taken a part of her with him. And that part would give her the strength she herself lacked. She was a Gryffindor, and she was brave, but for the very first time in her life, she was not brave enough.
But Albus was.
And Albus was with her.
A soft knock on the door interrupted her thoughts, and in a voice weaker than ever, Minerva muttered
"Come in."
The door went open, and Hermione Granger stood their, in dark blue robes, her brown hairs loosely tumbling down her back. Her face was still tear-stained- she had perhaps not lost a lover, but she *had* lost her best friend on this earth. As had Minerva, in fact.
Minerva had lost both.
But she wasn't the woman to complain, so she just forced a smile on her face and raised a hand in an inviting gesture.
"Hermione. Have a seat." she said, for the very first time allowing the friendship she felt for the girl sounding obvious in the way she pronounced her first name.
"Professor McGonagall." the girl acknowledged, as she obeyed.
Minerva shook her head.
"Minerva will do now. I- I…"
To her great embarrassment, she felt tears drip off her cheeks, and she immediately briskly wiped them away with the back of her hand. But she'd just… she'd just remembered when Albus had first said to her "Albus will do.". It seemed so long ago, now.
A lifetime ago.
But Hermione didn't even look surprised, and instead of behaving awkwardly, as Minerva knew she would have done in Hermione's place, she silently, without trying to comfort her former teacher, embraced the elder woman.
She did not speak a word, for which Minerva was very grateful, because she wouldn't have known what to say either. She felt Hermione's own, wet cheek rest against hers, and for a moment they were no longer former student and former professor, but just two women, two women grieving together, two women who knew their losses had left a gap behind that could never be filled.
As they released each other, brown eyes linked with green eyes, and both women uncomfortably smiled, noticing the tears in the other's eyes, tears that formed, in a way, a kind of comfort. Hermione was the first one to speak.
"I knew it. Of you and professor Dumbledore. I read it in your eyes the very first time I saw you look at him. Professor- Minerva… I am so sorry…"
She sobbed, yet smiled and Minerva smiled as well. She had cried all night- she had no tears left, so what else could she do than smile and be brave, as she'd always smiled and been brave…
"Don't be, Hermione." Minerva muttered, though she wondered where this sudden strength came from. Moments later, she knew the answer.
Albus.
And this one word, this one word carved in the inside of her head forever, as it was carved in the thin, silver ring she wore on her ring finger, made her get to her feet again.
"I must get ready now. There are many things to do, and I'll do them. For Albus."
Hermione faintly smiled, blew her nose and nodded, then left her former tutor alone.
And Minerva, proud, brave Minerva, felt tears rolling from her eyes again.
"Will this then never stop?" she thought, desperately despite herself.
But she knew it never would.
She knew it, she felt it.
Albus had been a part of her.
A part way more important than an arm, than a leg, than her mind even.
Albus had been her heart.
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Minerva McGonagall woke up the next morning in a bed too large for her alone, in sheets too cold for her alone, in a room too empty for her alone. And only then, as she felt the first rays of the still raising sun on her cheeks, as she opened her eyes and looked, right there on her bedside table, straight into the loving blue eyes of the person who had been -no, was!- her husband, Minerva realized that she'd not just lost Albus, but that she'd lost a part of herself as well.
A certain emptiness, a feeling of uselessness, had crept into her heart as Albus Dumbledore had closed his eyes for the very last time, and she knew it would not go away. Oh yes, even the worst pain faded in the end, perhaps, but what she felt went far beyond just pain.
Albus had been everything to her.
And so in the end, she, Minerva McGonagall, proud, independent Minerva, had not been independent after all. She had depended on Albus.
Albus still was everything to her.
And this pain would never fade.
Yet, slowly, feeling every movement scratch straight into her heart, Minerva got out of bed and dragged herself to the bathroom. She didn't enter, though, for she knew very well she'd collapse again at the sight of his empty cup. That was, by the way, exactly how she felt. An empty cup.
She'd never really liked hot cocoa the way Albus had.
Yet.
She had been the cup and he'd been her cocoa.
So, she sat down on the couch instead. She cried nonetheless.
But she had to be strong. Minerva took her large, tartan handkerchief- oh, hadn't Albus always made fun of those handkerchiefs of hers? Albus!- and carefully dabbed her eyes.
He hadn't wanted her to cry, to yell, to get hysterical and to abandon the school.
He had wanted her to be the strong, honest, fair Minerva he had known. He had wanted her to be *his* Minerva.
For the school's sake.
They had never had children, the Headmaster and his Deputy Headmistress, but they'd always addressed Hogwarts as "their daughter". They hadn't known why they'd always called it their daughter, and not their son, but after all, that didn't matter.
Hogwarts was their, Albus' and Minerva's, very own baby, a half-orphan now.
And Minerva couldn't let her only child down.
For it was all of Albus she still had left.
She sobbed, yet immediately determinedly shook her head.
No. No, that was not true. She still held a part of him, the way he had taken a part of her with him. And that part would give her the strength she herself lacked. She was a Gryffindor, and she was brave, but for the very first time in her life, she was not brave enough.
But Albus was.
And Albus was with her.
A soft knock on the door interrupted her thoughts, and in a voice weaker than ever, Minerva muttered
"Come in."
The door went open, and Hermione Granger stood their, in dark blue robes, her brown hairs loosely tumbling down her back. Her face was still tear-stained- she had perhaps not lost a lover, but she *had* lost her best friend on this earth. As had Minerva, in fact.
Minerva had lost both.
But she wasn't the woman to complain, so she just forced a smile on her face and raised a hand in an inviting gesture.
"Hermione. Have a seat." she said, for the very first time allowing the friendship she felt for the girl sounding obvious in the way she pronounced her first name.
"Professor McGonagall." the girl acknowledged, as she obeyed.
Minerva shook her head.
"Minerva will do now. I- I…"
To her great embarrassment, she felt tears drip off her cheeks, and she immediately briskly wiped them away with the back of her hand. But she'd just… she'd just remembered when Albus had first said to her "Albus will do.". It seemed so long ago, now.
A lifetime ago.
But Hermione didn't even look surprised, and instead of behaving awkwardly, as Minerva knew she would have done in Hermione's place, she silently, without trying to comfort her former teacher, embraced the elder woman.
She did not speak a word, for which Minerva was very grateful, because she wouldn't have known what to say either. She felt Hermione's own, wet cheek rest against hers, and for a moment they were no longer former student and former professor, but just two women, two women grieving together, two women who knew their losses had left a gap behind that could never be filled.
As they released each other, brown eyes linked with green eyes, and both women uncomfortably smiled, noticing the tears in the other's eyes, tears that formed, in a way, a kind of comfort. Hermione was the first one to speak.
"I knew it. Of you and professor Dumbledore. I read it in your eyes the very first time I saw you look at him. Professor- Minerva… I am so sorry…"
She sobbed, yet smiled and Minerva smiled as well. She had cried all night- she had no tears left, so what else could she do than smile and be brave, as she'd always smiled and been brave…
"Don't be, Hermione." Minerva muttered, though she wondered where this sudden strength came from. Moments later, she knew the answer.
Albus.
And this one word, this one word carved in the inside of her head forever, as it was carved in the thin, silver ring she wore on her ring finger, made her get to her feet again.
"I must get ready now. There are many things to do, and I'll do them. For Albus."
Hermione faintly smiled, blew her nose and nodded, then left her former tutor alone.
And Minerva, proud, brave Minerva, felt tears rolling from her eyes again.
"Will this then never stop?" she thought, desperately despite herself.
But she knew it never would.
She knew it, she felt it.
Albus had been a part of her.
A part way more important than an arm, than a leg, than her mind even.
Albus had been her heart.