Chapter Twelve

It was not long until Poppy's eyelids, too, dropped and she fell asleep on the chair she'd been sitting in, one compassionate friend still resting on her sleeping friend's back. Minerva slept a relatively peaceful sleep, rolled up into a ball, arms wrapped around her stomach under the sheets. A calm, but stubborn expression graced her still beautiful face as her chest rhythmically moved along with her steady breath.

But the redness of her eyes along with the bitter line of her clenched together lips told a wholly different story than the almost serene sight of her moonlight-lit face, half-covered by the long, blackish hair.

Poppy was awoken by the first ray of sun, very early in the morning, and as she, still half asleep, picked up her book from its familiar place on the ground, she was touched by the sight of her friend. She'd seen Minerva sleep many times before, in the best and the worst of circumstances, but never had the usually so unreadable facial expression of the Deputy Headmistress been so clear as it was on that very moment.

Lovingly, like a mother would do for her newborn child, Poppy found herself pulling up the sheets a bit higher, till Minerva's rolled up body was neatly covered up to her chin.

"Oh Minerva, how can I ever make this easier to bear for you?"

Her question had come out more as a sigh than as a proper sentence, and she stared down at her feet while outing it- which caused her to almost jump up in surprise as, with a short cough, Minerva's slightly hoarse voice silently replied

"There is nothing to make easier to bear, Poppy. I am with child. I know I am."

It was not so much the determined tone these words were spoken in as the confident glimmer in her friend's bright green eyes that bothered Poppy. It worried her. She'd seen many cases of unconscious self-deception in patients of hers, and she was too experienced a Mediwitch to not realize that it were the stubborn, strong-headed ones, like Minerva, who were in the greatest danger.

She knew what she had to do, she knew what would, probably, bring Minerva "back to earth" in no time- but she, frankly, dreaded doing it. Yet, as she got to her feet and placed her hands on her sides, she knew she had to.

"Minerva Caitriona McGonagall, listen very well to me..."

She felt the anger in her own voice- heard it- but she knew very well it wasn't real anger, fury, which she felt. Sadness, it was. Pity, indeed. But never anger.

And yet she had to be harsh with her friend now.

"You are not pregnant. You were, but your child is dead. Dead, Minerva! Dead, dead, dead!"

She felt hot tears in her eyes and on her cheeks as she kept repeating this word, but what, perhaps, pained her the most was the totally indifferent expression in Minerva's now dull, misty green eyes.

"Minerva, you are not pregnant anymore! Whatever has gotten into you? You don't carry a child, Min, and I don't think you ever will. It's cruel, but it's the truth and TAKE THAT SMILE OFF YOUR FACE!"

For indeed Minerva smiled- a strange, unearthly smile- as she simply shrugged her shoulders. There was a playful hint in her eyes as she merely pronounced

"I am pregnant, Poppy. I would know if it weren't true, wouldn't I?"

This was combined by such a suddenly sharp, poignant stare from the mysterious green eyes that had always been Minerva's most prominent feature. It was such an abrupt return to her previous self, that Poppy had to admit it did startle her a bit. She quickly found the words again, though, and as she shook her head she muttered

"No, you wouldn't. Not if you were going mad."

But Minerva had already turned her back to her friend, and snuggling warmly under the thick hospital sheets, her even, rhythmic breathing made Poppy shut up. Every word she spoke now was useless anyway. Minerva had almost... hexed herself to sleep, or so it seemed. Poppy, as an experienced Mediwitch, knew when someone wasn't really asleep, and the strange thing was- Minerva wasn't faking.

Resting a hand on her friend's arched back, Poppy sighed.

"Minerva, Minerva, what are you doing now? Have you then really gone mad? But I cannot believe that... or..."

To her own irritation, she felt her gaze dwell through the room, looking for and finding her dark red leather doctor's bag. As if she could look right through the thick material, she knew what was inside of it. Only one of those many things did she think of, though.

Moments later, as her chubby hand closed around what was a small vial of a transparent liquid, she could only scold herself for her folly. All her medical knowledge told her how useless this was, and yet she couldn't possibly keep herself from it.

As her fingers slowly dropped one of the long, black hairs she'd picked off her friend's head inside of the vial, she closed her eyes for a moment.

As she opened them again, a few minutes later, her lips opened and slowly, leisurely formed one single word.