Chapter Eleven

"No, really, Poppy, what am I still doing here? I should be at Hogwarts now, preventing that- that... "

Minerva's voice slightly shook as she carefully pronounced the so hated name.

"... that Umbridge woman from destroying the only things I have ever fought for- Hogwarts and Albus."

Her pale, thinner than ever hands rested on the edge of the white sheets, folding and unfolding them at a high, nervous speed as she spoke out the name of her husband.

Poppy lowered her eyes at this sudden showing of what little weakness was present in the indestructible constitution of the Deputy Headmistress. Minerva's nausea had passed along with the day, and the Mediwitch very well realized that she couldn't keep... the secret... a secret for much longer. She had, for a moment, pondered on whether or not to tell Minerva about it, but almost immediately she had realized that the strong witch herself would want to know it, no matter how painful the consequences.

"Where is Albus, Poppy?"

The question didn't come unexpected, and yet it surprised Poppy. In a Mona-Tonks-way, she dropped the book she had been trying to read during the past hours, when Minerva had rested in her much needed sleep. She had sensed her thoughts wandering, though, towards the moment that would, of that there was no doubt, certainly come.

And that moment, she knew, was now.

"He's at The Three Broomsticks, Min, Rosmerta's put her old spare room to use one more time. He's safe. But... but there is something more that you need to know."

It was now or never, she knew, as she noticed Minerva inquiring, bright green glance examining her face in wonder. Slowly, her friend's thin lips formed words.

"Poppy, tell me. What has the old toad managed to destroy more? I know it's about her- you have that typical, frightened look in your eyes. I know you too well, Poppy. Tell me..."

As two chubby hands gently enfolded one thin one, Minerva's heart pace quickened.

"Minerva," her friend softly began, but the tears in her eyes and voice told Minerva that she had to be afraid. Very afraid.

"I don't know how to say this- whether to say this..."

"Please do."

Minerva's eyes were dry, but her gaze begged and Poppy cleared her throat.

"Minerva, when Dolores gave the order to Stun you, she didn't only manage to ruin your health. She also- she killed..."

Poppy softly sobbed- not daring to look her friend into the eye anymore.

"She killed whom?"

Minerva's voice sounded uncharacteristically hoarse and high-pitched, as her fingernails pushed deep into the soft flesh of her friend and colleague's hands.

"She killed your baby, Minerva. You were pregnant."

Poppy couldn't keep her hot, helpless tears from falling down her cheeks as Minerva's parted lips silently formed an almost invisible "o". It was totally overshadowed, though, by the expression in her eyes. Poppy had lived through more than fifty years standing beside Minerva- first as fellow students, then as colleagues- but never, never had those misty emeralds Minerva totally not doing them justice called "her eyes" shone with such primal, ancient pain as on that very moment.

It was the pain woman through ages and ages had felt at the only news that could break, really break- naturally strong creatures as they were- their hearts.

It was the pain of a woman who had finally, finally received and immediately lost again.

Yet when those trembling, seemingly helpless lips, moments later, did form words, it was Poppy's jaw's turn to drop. She did truly, honestly not know what exactly she had expected her friend to say, but even her ready, comforting arms froze at the sentence which, finally, left Minerva's mouth and mind.

"It's not true!"

Recovering from the first surprise, Poppy soundlessly sighed. It was nothing for Minerva to deny what was so obviously the truth- but perhaps practically and bravely facing the facts every single time was too much for even the courageous Deputy Headmistress on the bed before her.

"Minerva, I understand what you..."

But one fierce gesture cut off her words, and Poppy knew better than to utter one more word when her best friend's eyes held that expression. Minerva's next movement, though, was everything except what Poppy had expected.

The proud Deputy Headmistress just pulled the sheets up to her chin and turned her back to her friend.

"I am pregnant, Poppy. I am."

Poppy sighed once more as she rested a cool, soothing hand on Minerva's obviously tense shoulder. A short shiver was the only reply she got, until, with a small sob, three more, obstinate yet in a way also powerful words left the Transfiguration Professor's clenched together lips.

"I am pregnant."

And Minerva just covered her ears with her pillow, and slept.