Minerva had no idea how she managed to get through the last few minutes of the lesson; her mind was in a haze, her thoughts buzzing around the mysterious letter. Only when the last student had left the room did she break the seal and read the brief letter. When she had finished reading gave a startled cry and dashed from the classroom.
Her frantic steps took her to the headmaster's office. Albus Dumbledore looked up at her from his desk with a concerned expression in his light blue eyes as she stood before him and made her request.
"Would it be at all possible for another professor to look after my next two classes, Headmaster?" Minerva asked as calmly as she could, but the rising panic in her chest was making if difficult for her to maintain control.
"I'm certain that a substitute could be arranged," Albus told her calmly. "May I ask why?"
Minerva took a deep breath and fought to keep her expression neutral as she spoke.
"I've just received a letter from St. Mungo's," she told the headmaster softly, "Alastor Moody was injured on Auror business. We were together a long time you see and I'm still listed as his next of kin. The healers in charge of his case have asked me to come to the hospital as soon as possible."
Albus stood up abruptly and moved over to his fireplace.
"Just a moment, Minerva," he told her before throwing a pinch of Floo powder into the empty fireplace and kneeling down so that his head disappeared into the green flames of the powder. After a few moments, Albus pulled his head from the flames and rose, gesturing to Minerva to join him at the fireplace.
"We're both going to St. Mungo's," he told her.
Minerva had no time to respond as Albus threw another handful of Floo powder into the fireplace and then stepped into the flames, pulling her with him. When they arrived at the hospital, Minerva swayed on her feet and was grateful for Albus's hold on her arm as he prevented her from falling. She smiled at him in thanks and felt herself melt a little under his gaze, but then she remembered where they were and why and immediately returned to the unpleasant reality.
Minerva tore her eyes away from the man beside her and hurried towards the information desk, cutting in front of the other witches and wizards already in line.
"I'm here to see Alastor Moody, I was told it was urgent," Minerva snapped her words out at the bored looking witch behind the desk. At the name Alastor Moody, the young witch's eyes widened and she leaned forward towards Minerva.
"Are you Minerva McGonagall?" she asked.
Minerva nodded.
"Fourth floor," the witch told her quickly, "Healer Sloan said you were to go up at once; he wants to speak with you about Mr. Moody's condition."
Minerva nodded again and turned towards the stairs when she noticed the hospital guide posted on the wall: Fourth Floor, Spell Damage.
-
Her imagination was going onto overdrive as she hurried up the steps; only Albus's gentle hand on her arm kept her from losing control. Alastor was in training to become an auror, anything could have happened, he could be dying at that very moment. She moved faster.
She found the healer at once; he was waiting for her, a worried frown upon his face.
"Minerva McGonagall?" he asked. She nodded and waited for the worst. Instead of delivering any news he glanced at Albus and then back at Minerva with a question in his eyes.
Minerva blushed and gestured to the man at her side.
"This is my boss, Albus Dumbledore," she explained, knowing how it must look to the doctor, Albus had yet to remove his hand from her arm. "He offered to escort me here after I received your letter. How is Alastor?"
The healer nodded at her explanation and then sighed.
"Not well," he told her. "Physically he'll recover, but one of the spells has affected his memory and we don't yet know if the damage is permanent. We're hoping you can help us with this."
Minerva nodded to show that she understood, but inside she shuddered; how much of his memory was gone and how would that affect his career as an auror?
"Will you come with me?" the doctor asked, gesturing towards a room to his left. Minerva swallowed and nodded, nervous and wary.
Albus gave her arm a gentle squeeze and smiled reassuringly at her as she moved away. Minerva paused and looked back at him; it was all she could do not to beg him to come with her. But after a moment of hesitation she turned away and followed the doctor.
Alastor Moody was laying on the hospital bed, his muscular form making it look small, almost childlike. His head, chest and left hand were wrapped in bandages; Minerva gave an involuntary jerk as she noticed a small patch of blood soaking though the bandages on his chest.
The healer moved to the injured man's side and tapped him gently on the shoulder.
"Mr. Moody?"
Alastor stirred and opened his eyes. His eyes roved around the room until he noticed Minerva.
"Min," he stated quietly, giving her a weak smile. "I feel like hell."
Minerva tried to smile and moved closer to him, taking his uninjured hand in both of hers.
"You look it," she told him, trying to joke.
He gave a small chuckle that clearly hurt his damaged ribs.
"It looks like I won't be able to make it tomorrow night," he told her. Minerva blinked at him, confused.
"Make it where?" she asked him.
"To that big ministry dinner," he explained. "I know you wanted to go, seeing as the departmnet is being honored, but –"
Minerva stared at him and dropped his hand back onto the bed.
"But Alastor," she said softly, "that dinner was –"
Healer Sloan cleared his throat and threw Minerva a warning glance. She looked back down at Alastor.
"Unimportant," she finished. "I'm going to let you rest now and I'll check up on you later."
He nodded as she bent down and placed a kiss on his forehead before turning and following the healer out of the room. Once outside, Healer Sloan turned to her.
"Well?" he asked. "What were you about to say in there? How far back is he mentally?"
Minerva cleared her throat and looked down at the floor, trying to hide the tears that had sprung up in her eyes.
"That ministry dinner was held five years ago."