Just before dawn the silence of the empty study was suddenly punctured by the sound of hundreds of tiny sighs.
The portrait of Dilys Derwent shook her head slowly. "Those two – are truly remarkable," she commented quietly.
"They certainly are," Armando Dippet concurred. He vanished from his frame to reappear in hers. Taking her painted hands in his, he smiled softly. "If things had been different, Dilys, perhaps we may have had… something similar."
She squeezed his hands in agreement. "I'd like to think so, Armando."
"I'm glad," he said simply. Then he looked around the study, at the hundreds of portraits of dead Headmasters and Headmistresses which littered its walls. "Shall I do the honours, Dilys, or would you prefer to?"
"Go right ahead, Armando dear."
He inclined his head in thanks, then raised his voice. "Past Heads of Hogwarts School, I bid ye list!"
All noise ceased as the archaic words rang through the room.
"I call upon ye, shades of life, to make sacrifice for the good of all Wizardry!"
A bearded portrait hastily interrupted. "Steady on, old boy. You can't make that claim! Only the current Headmaster can make that claim upon us – and only then if the school is in mortal peril. That's the oath which binds us."
Armando shrugged. "Technically, Fortescue, you are right; but – "
"I tell thee truth, there be no 'buts' within our oath, Armando Dippet," a skinny witch in crimson velvet cut in, hands clenched around her ancient wooden frame. "Fortescue be right. I care not how thee and Dilys might make malicious whisper upon me for my thought; yet will I adhere me only to mine oath. Which thou canst not call upon me."
A chorus of agreement rumbled from many of the other pictures. Dilys glared at them – especially at those who only this morning had promised to support she and Armando's proposal. But for once, they simply glared back. This was not an argument many of them were prepared to lose. Too much rode upon it.
Emboldened by the evident support, another wizard, this one in robes of blue and silver, spoke up. "We gave an oath as the Heads of Hogwarts to sacrifice our last glimmers of life only if the castle – or the wizarding world – is in mortal peril. Right now the castle is strong and steadfast; our students are safe; and now Voldemort is gone, there are no foes to threaten us. I mourn for Minerva McGonagall – she has been a fine teacher, and will be a great loss; but she made her own choices. And, as we well know," he smiled slightly, "death is a natural part of life. Our duty is clear. Dumbledore will still be here, and will need our advice for many years to come. And thus you cannot call in our oaths."
A chorus of similar sentiments beat against Armando and Dilys at the blue robed wizard's final words. They exchanged a worried look. This wasn't going well, for all their careful lobbying.
Nonetheless Dilys opened her mouth to refute the argument – but another voice forestalled her. A nasal voice which, unlike the voices of the other portraits which had grown high and tinny in their anger, rang like a bell through the room, cold, deep, and powerful.
"You fools."
The portrait of Phineas Nigellus, who until now had been pensively staring into the ashes of the fireplace, looked around the room with eyes as cold and fierce as those of a roused snake.
The other pictures were stunned into immobility as those eyes seemed to mark each one with immense contempt.
"Do you really believe what you have argued – or are you all hiding behind technicalities because you are afraid? Then listen to me, you who would say your oaths don't apply now. I tell you, I, the only Headmaster of Hogwarts who was raised in the House of the Serpent, that Hogwarts is in mortal peril. And by my House, which values cunning above bravery, verity above intellect, necessity above ethics, you may indeed know my words for truth."
Eyes wide, the portraits listened as the cold voice continued.
"Hogwarts is the oldest of the wizarding schools; founded over a thousand years ago to teach these children of ours not just the magic they are capable of, but when to wield it, and when to refrain. Thus have we taught the generations not only magic but justice… and sometimes, even mercy.
"Other schools have been created since; but they were begun by those who had already been shaped by Hogwarts – and so, to this day, Hogwarts remains at the heart of the wizarding world.
"And for many years, Albus Dumbledore has been the heart of Hogwarts. He has been central in the defeat of two wizards who would have destroyed even the concepts of justice and mercy; who would have used the world for their own amusement. Had it not been for Dumbledore, our world, and even that of the Muggle world, would have been drowned in blood.
"But if Dumbledore is the heart of Hogwarts, and Hogwarts is the heart of the wizarding world, what then is the heart of Albus Dumbledore?"
They watched him, mesmerised. Dilys felt tears pricking her painted eyes as Phineas pointed to the place where the bedroom door would have been visible.
"She is. Minerva McGonagall. She is his heart, as well as his right hand. It may be Gryffindor foolishness to give oneself so completely to another, but that is what the two of them have done. Absolute trust, absolute faith, absolute," he paused, sighed, and said it.
"Absolute love."
He stopped for a moment. The room was utterly still.
When he continued, his voice was much softer, but no less compelling.
"My colleagues – what happens to a man when his heart is torn away? Do you truly believe he will continue to sit here in his study, asking our advice, while in the castle the students will happily continue to learn right from wrong? Can you see that?
"No. He will fade away, losing all interest in the world – because his reason to love the world will be gone. How long before he follows her?
"He is the greatest of us all, and in this shattered world he is needed to rebuild it. He doesn't require our advice, he hasn't needed it for years; all the knowledge and power necessary to care for our world and guide our children rests where it has always rested – in his great mind, and in the love he bears for all. But the source of all his love is her.
"If the heart is gone, the body fails. If the heart of Hogwarts is crushed, then Hogwarts is doomed. And without Hogwarts, how long before the wizarding world is lost?"
Tears were streaming down Dilys' face; and with a quick glance upwards she saw them shimmering also on Armando's cheek.
"I am a Slytherin; the only Slytherin here. I hold no brief for love or affections – only for necessity and the truth. I tell you, Hogwarts is in mortal peril. And I, the Slytherin Headmaster, call your oaths in."
He fell silent, and for a long moment the world seemed silent too.
Then a small voice spoke up. "But… I do not wish to die, Phineas."
Phineas smiled strangely. "We are already dead. But if we do this, if we give up this shadow life we cling to, then we have the power to give another - life. And yet another, love. It seems to me a very fair exchange."
Armando's arms had found their way around Dilys' waist, and Dilys found herself grateful for their support as Phineas said:
"I, who was once Headmaster of Hogwarts, surrender myself to the oath I swore. Per sacrificium mihi, sino fieri!"
And there was nothing in his portrait frame, and a small green flame burned in the centre of room. Fire, burning from nothingness.
Fortescue sighed and rubbed his already-reddened nose. "Well, I'll be damned before I'm beaten in courage by a Slytherin." He looked around at the others. "See you on the other side." A deep breath and then - "I, who was once Headmaster of Hogwarts, surrender myself to the oath I swore. Per sacrificium mihi, sino fieri!"
A red flame joined the green one, and three other red flames quickly shot over to join them.
The crimson robed witch sighed as other flames of yellow and blue began to join the red and the single green. "If naught else, I have in truth worked long and well. Mayhap it be time for rest." She smoothed her crimson robe one last time. "I, once Headmistress of Hogwarts and Queen of this realm, do surrender me unto the oath I did swear. Per sacrificium mihi, sino fieri!" Another yellow flame joined the growing blaze.
Much red and yellow; fewer blues, and a solitary green which somehow seemed to glow with the brilliancy of emeralds.
The blue robed wizard looked wistful. "I shall miss the arguments. But everything must end eventually, and I suppose this is the logical thing to do." He sighed. "I, once Headmaster of Hogwarts, do surrender myself to the oath I swore. Per sacrificium mihi, sino fieri!" The blue flame danced across to merge with the others.
Very few portraits were occupied anymore as flames flew across the room like shooting stars.
"Well," said Armando quietly. "It's been fun, hasn't it, Dilys?"
"It certainly has," she smiled, wiping the tears from her face. "And what a way to go, hmm?" She breathed in, ready to say the words which would release the last of her spirit.
"Wait," he said. Then he whispered in her ear.
Her eyebrows rose. "Do you think it would work?"
"It's worth a try, isn't it?"
Dilys thought for a moment. "Yes. It is."
Armando said slowly, "Do you know… in my lifetime I never met a woman who could compare to you, Dilys Derwent."
She reached up and put her hand on his cheek. "And I never met a man so good and true as you, Armando Dippet."
A last shared smile, then they spoke together.
"We, who were once Heads of Hogwarts, surrender ourselves to the oaths we swore. Per sacrificia nostrae, sinamus fieri!"
And a flame, larger than the others and a shade of orange like that of living fire, joined the hundreds of magical lights in the centre of the room.
With all their number burning in the flames, the last of the spirits merged into a single astral fire, shimmering yellow, orange, red, blue… and brilliant green at the tip.
It moved through the wall of the study as if the wall did not exist, and hovered above the two sleeping figures on the bed.
Fawkes flew in through the open window and, to the counterpoint of haunting phoenix song, the spell was cast.
Benedicte tua in omnes…
The voice seemed to come out of the air itself… Chiming, like bells.
…Virtuam es in innocenem…
… singing, almost; ancient words swirling within the incredibly beautiful light which filled the chamber…
…Munum libentem petiuisti…
Intense light, soft light, compellingly lovely; music of both ear and eye…
…Et libentem laborauisti…
…singing, celebrating, blessing one who was in courage selfless, who had willingly sought and worked for her duty…
In amor fidelis
Et in virtum fidelis es…
… and who was in both love and valor ever true. Ancient words, a spell so rarely used – for of whom could it be spoken truly?
Vitarum finitem bonam es iudicaramus
The lights brightened; the single flame swirled faster, flashing colours which, had any but the phoenix been awake to see them, would have blinded them to look upon. The sacrifice had been named; and the sacrifice was everything. A final blessing…
Benedicte tua, Minerva…
And the astral flame itself exploded into hundreds of tiny flames, wizard fire, burning vivid white in the air, as the last words of the spell were completed.
Per sacrificia nostrae
Vivebus! Vivebus! Vivebus!
Fawkes burst into flame as the last syllable was spoken, his ashes falling almost neatly onto the floor; and a light brighter than the sun surrounded the sleeping woman on the bed, then seemed to fade into her. It was done.
As the flames slowly dwindled a single voice, no longer cold but still quite nasal, spoke softly.
"Be well, children; and gods bless you both."
Then the flames winked out.
**
Minerva McGonagall woke to warmth. A perfect, comfortable warmth, like waking on a summer's morning.
It was only a few mornings ago that she had wakened in Albus Dumbledore's arms before; but then she had been separated from him by layers of clothing and bedclothes. This morning there was nothing between them. She found herself blushing slightly at the realization.
It was probably quite foolish for a woman of her age to suddenly feel so shy – but she did. Had she really…
Well, obviously the answer was yes, given their current position. Minerva tilted her head up slightly to gaze into his face. His arms cradled her tightly even in his sleep.
She was in love with Albus. Albus Dumbledore. Her dearest friend was now much more.
And the cruelest thing was how little time they had now to be together, now that the world was at peace.
It was hard to believe she was dying. She felt so well! And so – completely happy.
But, whatever the time, at least she would have had this. But… would this make it harder on him when she was gone?
"No." Minerva blinked. Lost deep in her own thoughts, she hadn't noticed that the sleeping face had changed, and that brilliant blue eyes had been gazing at her own face.
"Albus?"
"Beloved."
The blush returned, brighter than before. "Good morning, Albus." She wished her voice didn't sound so husky, and mentally Minerva blamed the tears of the night before. It was wrong of her to have burdened him with her own fears.
"Minerva." Long fingers tilted her head up to face him again. "There is nothing more in this world I could ask for than to be with you, and to hold you when you cry." And, as if to prove it, his mouth lowered onto hers in a gentle sweet kiss.
When the kiss ended, leaving her somewhat breathless, she pulled the bedclothes around her and rallied. "We… we should probably go down to breakfast, don't you think?"
"We could breakfast here."
"The students will be concerned." Albus's fingertips were trailing along Minerva's bare arm, and the touch was…
"I'm certain they will forgive us when they know the reason."
"Albus Dumbledore!" Moving quickly, Minerva had the top blanket wrapped around her body and was out of the bed almost before he knew what she was doing. He blinked in confusion.
"Minerva? What is wr-"
"I will not have the students discussing my… my private life!" She moved around the room quickly, hunting for her clothes.
"Our private lives," Albus corrected almost absently. "Minerva, I did not mean –"
"Then what else could you mean?" she demanded. She'd found her wand, ready to Transfigure the elaborate dress he had created the day before into a teaching robe. The thought of the students knowing… Minerva had not been amused when the rumours had swept Hogwarts only two days ago. To have such an experience again would be far from pleasant.
And this time, there would be truth in it. She stared at him in the sudden silence.
He got out of the bed, and moved towards her. "My Minerva, I would like – I want more than anything - to be able to tell the students that we –" Albus stopped in mid sentence, and stared at something just to the right of her.
She swung round to look. His gaze was locked on Poppy's silver talisman. What was so fascinating about that? Minerva was about to turn around again, when she realised what held him transfixed.
The silver metronome on the talisman had stopped ticking.
Hardly breathing, Minerva picked the object up. Still the metronome did not move. She shook it hard, and stared at it. Albus moved closer to see for himself.
It was completely still.
"Albus? Do you think –" She tried not to get her own hopes up. "Is it broken, do you think?"
He shook his head. "I don't see how."
They looked at each other for a long moment. "Poppy," they said together. Albus began to move swiftly to the bedroom door.
"Accio dressing gown! Albus!" she cried out. He stopped, surprised, as she tossed the bright clothing towards him. "For heaven's sake, put something on!"
His bright eyes twinkled as he shrugged into the robe. "You may wish to take your own advice, Professor McGonagall."
She snorted and waved her wand quickly, twice. Suddenly he was wearing a robe of purple and gold, and the blanket she had wrapped around herself earlier was now her customary emerald attire. "You won't have any bedclothes left soon," Minerva pointed out somewhat apologetically.
"I feel I can stand the loss." Taking her suddenly nerveless hand, he pulled her toward the door, and into the study. Where, again, they both stopped in surprise.
Hundreds of empty frames lined the walls. Albus's eyes dimmed.
"Sacrifice," he murmured.
Minerva's own eyes widened as she took in that single word. "Surely – oh, surely, Albus, they wouldn't have. Not for me!"
He inclined his head.
"But I'm not the Headmaster of Hogwarts! And the portraits' oath is only for the Headmaster – or if Hogwarts is in grave danger. They can't have!"
Albus reached out, and touched her face. "Poppy must confirm it," he said gently. "But I can no longer feel their presences. I believe they have."
"Oh, Albus!" She felt like crying.
"Come," he said softly, and they moved into the stairwell and towards the infirmary.
**
Almost half an hour later, Minerva was ready to scream with frustration. The school nurse flatly refused to give her verdict until she was absolutely sure of the results.
Right now Poppy was bent over a small potions flask, her wand pointing at it, watching it intently. Albus, sensing her nervousness, reached over and gently squeezed her hand. Minerva gripped his hand tightly.
Then Poppy was turning around. Were those tears in her eyes? Minerva's heart sank.
"You're cured."
"What?"
Poppy smiled hugely. "You are completely well, Minerva. The energy drain has stopped permanently."
Then Minerva was enveloped by two people, being hugged – and for once, she didn't mind at all. She returned the hugs, and found that she was laughing. As were both Poppy and Albus. The nightmare was truly over.
When they had calmed somewhat, Albus asked quietly, "Poppy, would you please inform the rest of the staff? They should all be at breakfast now."
"Oh, yes!" Poppy almost danced out of the infirmary, anxious to spread the good news.
Minerva tried to regain some dignity. "When they hear I'm going to live after all, I'm going to be smothered by hugs."
"Possibly," Albus said absently. Then he waved his hand and sent a sealing spell at the infirmary's door.
"Albus, what are you doing?"
He turned back to her and pulled her close. "I feel we are entitled to a few moments of privacy." Then he was kissing her fiercely, and she felt herself melting in his embrace.
When he lifted his head, she had to cling to the support of his arms. He smiled down at her.
"My Minerva…"
They heard a thumping at the door, and the sound of their colleagues' voices filtered through.
"What on earth is going on with this blasted door?"
"Sprouty, dear, just move a little, would you? You're on my foot!"
"Payback for yesterday, Filius dear."
"Would you two children feel better if I assigned you detention, perhaps?" Ah. That would be Severus.
Minerva quirked an eyebrow. "We should probably let them in before they damage the door – or each other."
"In a moment," Albus said serenely. "Before we do, however…" His voice trailed off.
Both Minerva's eyebrows were now raised. The thumping grew louder.
"Albus, we really should let them in."
"Before that," Albus said almost shyly, "there is a question I would ask you, Minerva McGonagall. A question I have wanted to ask you for many years…"