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My sincere apologies for the ghastly delay, have been occupied with my notorious novel (ahem) and with Oxford stuff that is now- hopefully- alright. Thanks to everyone who bore with me and thanks to everyone who's still reading this.

Minerva decided to go to Hogwarts by broom; it had been a while since she had last flown, after all- and maybe the winds blowing around her head would finally chase all her thoughts away. She wasn't even disappointed when it didn't work.

She didn't want to forget, after all. She didn't want to forget what they had shared, what they had said, how he had looked at her- but she did not want to forget, either, how he had lain there, how his blue eyes had been empty, and worse still- how they had quit being empty in the end.

No, Minerva McGonagall did not want to forget. She had seen, she had seen in the very condition of the man she loved how horrible it was to forget things- however hurtful they were, however sad. She did not want to forget a thing- except, perhaps, that thought that kept on bothering her. It was the thought of how things could have been.

Still, when the castle of Hogwarts appeared on the horizon, Minerva found herself smiling- and wishing that things could stay exactly the way they were at that moment. And maybe they would; Maybe the sun would freeze against the sky, maybe the castle and all its inhabitants would stand still- maybe the day would never turn into night again, and she… maybe she would never have to land again.

But that wish, the young witch decided a moment later, was the product of mere cowardice and not worthy of a Gryffindor. Armando counted on her, now, and she would not break her promise to the Headmaster.

When she entered the castle, for a split second she felt like a student again- but that thought brought too many hurtful memories along and she pushed it away, forcing a smile on her face as she noticed the rather short, bony figure of Headmaster Dippet walking in her direction.

"Minerva, my child!"

Being hugged by Armando Dippet was a rather unreal feeling, Minerva decided a moment later- and not just because the man was about two inches shorter than she was. It was not unpleasant, but she knew the man meant it as a means of comfort- and it did not comfort her, not in the least.

It merely reminded her of the fact that she had left Albus alone.

Once, they had stood on the battlefield together, side by side, and he had told her that he would never leave her alone- no matter what. She had been surprised and had returned the promise, because it had felt like the right thing to do- and because she had felt she would not live but to keep it.

Now, she had left him alone, as literally as possible- no matter what.

What was her excuse?

"Professor Dippet." the black-haired woman acknowledged with a smile, but still, as she held the short, elderly wizard at an arm's length, she once more felt one particularly nasty question popping up its ugly head inside of her mind.

"Why does he get to live 'till this age, while Albus…?"

It was a horrible thing to wonder about, and she was well aware of it, cheeks blushing a dark red as she followed the wizard to the rooms he had had prepared for her. Armando could not help what had happened to Albus- and the question she was asking herself equalled nothing more or less than questioning fate.

But then again, accepting things the way they were had never been one of Minerva McGonagall's strengths.