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Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine.
Eerie Silence settled over the house after the funeral.
Minerva seemed to be in a numb state of shock during the funeral. Albus, Dierdre, and Neptune all wept profusely at the spartan, well-attended ceremony. Minerva did not shed a single tear. Albus felt a creeping suspicion of the dangers behind binding these dark feelings. But truthfully, their healers had more pressing matters. Albus was relatively quickly set to rights, with only a scar above his knee. Grindelwald had used surprisingly mild curses, a subject Albus contemplated to great lengths thereafter. After repeated strains interrupting her recovery, Healer Doughan and Pomfrey ordered Minerva on bed rest for all but the rarest occasions. In addition, they conducted a thorough, precise examination of Minerva's pregnancy. She was verified as being six weeks pregnant, but whether the baby would survive after such a traumatic start could only be answered in time.
The McGonagall's Will stipulated that all their children inherit the expansive mansion and estate. In Hestia's absence, they each took a wing of the house to occupy with their significant others. Because of the blood protection placed on the house, Albus thought it best to keep Minerva at the mansion over the summer.
And as Juno predicted (less romantic souls might call it an order), Neptune proposed to Deirdre McCrae. They were to marry that Halloween. Albus agreed to return to his teaching post at Hogwarts in the fall. Minerva had made no wishes known about her future work. After hearing about the Ministry's last incursion, Albus guarded her as a dragon guards his treasure, and no officials came to call on her. Albus, however, agreed to tolerate a certain amount of hero styling if the Ministry surrendered all official record of their matrimony. He was fully occupied for a month with press conferences and a brief victory tour of Europe and America.
Minerva was left to her rooms, alone. She did not seek company, and often turned away Dierdre or Neptune or other caller's visits citing exhaustion or strain. Over a period of two weeks, she stopped talking all together. The only person she saw without caveat was Albus, on the few occasions he was hope to sleep with her. Her days were now solely occupied with Transfiguration tomes, each line of theory pushing another dark memory deeper out of conscious thought. Healer Doughan and Healer Pomfrey were beginning to grow deeply concerned by the time Albus returned from his victory tour. They held a serious conference with Albus, Deirdre and Neptune.
"We believe Minerva has sunk into a dangerous depression," Doughan began.
"And as she has shown no other signs of depression before this bout, we believe it to be a shock reaction to one or all of the many traumatic events in the past six months." Poppy's voice uncharacteristically grave.
"That narrows it down," snapped Neptune. But Deirdre glared at him and squeezed his hand, "I apologize, Poppy. We are all worried about my sister. Please, continue."
"Since she refuses to talk, we cannot even derive confidences from her as to what is troubling her. It is keeping us from beginning the healing process," frowned the older Healer, "If this were a physical wound, she would be covering it up and refusing treatment."
"It is both painful and frustrating to witness, as her Healer and her friend," Poppy sighed. Neptune began to regret his outburst at the sight of tears forming in her eyes.
"On the bright side," the salt and pepper haired Healer flickered a smile in his emerald eyes, "We have been monitoring your babe very carefully, Albus. And it appears strong and healthy as any I have had the pleasure to tend."
"Thank Merlin!" Breathed Albus, as if he had not released his breath since beginning this discussion. Every occupant of the room was shocked and touched to see he had tears in his eyes as well.
"But, Albus, we cannot stress enough that the continued health and strength of Minerva and the baby depend heavily on her coming out of this depression." Poppy pleaded, "She needs to build her strength and continue to move forward with life. Albus, you are the only person she allows to visit her. Please, do what you can to help her."
Albus looked as serious as if he was receiving order to carefully invade an insurmountable fortress. Minerva must be saved.
*!*!*!*
It was late evening when Albus ascended the stairs after their weighty conference. He trekked to the east wing of the manse and knocked softly at Minerva and his bedroom. Receiving no response, he stepped in. The room was still lit with several candles, and Minerva could be seen pouring over four texts on the bed. Seeing Albus, she closed the books and opened her arms to him.
"Albus!" The first word she had spoken in two weeks. Her whisper was so passionate, but so devoid of its usual elation that it ripped straight to Albus' heart. He rushed to the bed, completely exhausted and wanting nothing more than a quiet rest with his wife. He held her protectively for a long while, and finally pulled back to examine her appearance. Her eyes were hollow, her skin grey, and Albus could not help but notice that despite her treasured cargo, she had lost weight since he was last home. Following his eyes, Minerva turned away, pretending to snuggle down into the pillows for sleep.
"The Healers talked to me today, Minerva." Albus sighed, realizing his hopes of a perfect, unmarred reunion were dashed. He decided it was best to deal with his wife's needs immediately. "They said you haven't spoken a word in weeks. And you're refusing to see people. What's wrong, darling? I know you were hardly a social butterfly before, but you're acting exceptionally oddly these past few weeks."
No response from the shivering form under the blankets.
"Minerva, I want to help you. I know your parents' death was awful, and I can't help but feel I could have done something about it. But please, we have to do this together. We are married, we are meant to share all things together, even sickness and pain. I want to help you Minerva." Albus plowed on, "And we have a child to think of now, your health is even more important than before. Please, Minerva let me help you. Talk to me. I have taken the liberty of cancelling all my appointments for the next week, solely so I could spend time with you, and help take care of you. We are going to take outings, go on picnics. I am here to keep you safe, darling. But you have to trust me and let me help you! Please, dearest!" He voice had risen in tenor, until it was a sharp, keening plea. Suddenly, he realized, it warm in this room. There was no reason for Minerva to be shivering, Poppy had said she did not have a fever. Alarmed, he reached out to her, "Minerva?"
"LEAVE ME ALONE, ALBUS DUMBLEDORE!" She shrieked. She flipped over, and Albus saw splotches of angry, red color firing up her ashen face. "You abandoned me! My parents died and you had just come back, but then you left again and I never got to see you or talk to you about anything, and you didn't even seem to care, you never owled me, and YOU ABANDONED ME!" Albus pulled her to him. She beat against his chest, giving him a physical representation of her angst. He continued to hold, until she stopped crying. When he looked down at her, he realized she was asleep. This was not a drugged sleep, as Poppy confessed she had been forced to induce for the past three weeks, but a natural, healthy, restorative sleep. Still cradling his wife, Albus drifted to sleep himself.
This was going to be a long week.