Chapter Two
She'd never been this close to anyone but her parents, Minerva realized as she, with a despair she didn't know she held, hid her face in the deep purple robes of her teacher, and that thought only made her cling more to the man in front of her- holding on to him as if never to let go.
Couldn't she- just for once, just for now- forget about the world, couldn't she simply close her eyes and escape from the life of every day, from the life she didn't want to lead, from the life she didn't want to see led by those whom she loved?
And yet with the hollow smile of bravery and the empty blink of courage, Minerva knew that no, she couldn't. There was perhaps an escape possible, but it was not easy and nor was it good- it only seemed like that, just the way she was tricked into believing it by the wicked weakness of that strange structure that formed the human mind.
The arms of her- teacher- around her waist felt nice, though, so she allowed herself that one comfort, leaning her head against his chest as slowly, softly, with shaking lips which almost accidentally seemed to form words, she asked the inevitable question- and half-way decided against it.
"What is-"
And yet she shut up, looking up from the comfortable embrace she had been hiding in, only to find the worst of her fears acknowledged in the now sad, blue eyes of her tutor and friend.
There were tears in her own, emerald ones, she knew, but just for this once, she did not care. Minerva McGonagall never cried in public- barely cried in private, even- but for the first time in her life, the girl with her black hair and her big, fierce eyes, realized a universal truth. Sadness isn't the producing of tears- sadness is simply not caring anymore about spilling them. She did not want to cry, and even, technically, didn't know why she cried. And yet, somehow, she did. She did- she did so damn well that she even didn't know she did.
"What's in that letter you were reading?"
The question was asked almost carelessly, in a vain attempt to keep up the routine of everyday conversations- but Albus recognized it as what it was- for indeed it was nothing more or less than a careful reformulation of the direct, unbearable question she had wanted to ask earlier.
She literally felt him sigh against her ear, and as a gentle, strong hand came to rest on top of her smaller one, carefully leading her towards the couch, she closed her eyes. Did she want- need- to hear this? Did she?
And yet she allowed herself to be led towards the couch by a firm, yet gentle hand, then merely looked up at him as he sat down behind her, taking her hands into his own.
"It's a letter from France."
As if she didn't realize that by now. And part of her really wanted to cover her ears by her hands, to yell and to scream, just to not have to hear the terrible words- but all of a sudden, she was simply frozen, unable to move or say anything- but hear she could all the better, and every word cut straight through her heart.
"It's a letter from your parents' neighbours. They- Minerva, they have been arrested, and so have your siblings. I am so sorry."
His arms around her were all that kept her from fainting right away, a sudden light feeling inside her head proving that no matter how prepared she had been, finally hearing the so long feared words was still worse than anything she could have ever imagined.
As her cheek rested against his and finally, finally tears started to fall, Minerva McGonagall felt her own body shake, and all of a sudden knew that she would need every single ounce of that famous Gryffindor courage that she could muster.